


Happiness is

by writingfinn



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Angst, Depression, F/M, Fluff, Inspired by Poetry, Vikings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2018-10-25 01:46:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 26,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10754175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingfinn/pseuds/writingfinn
Summary: "You are a flame in a man's body-""-You're burning, Ivar. You burn others-""-But you can also bring light in the darkness and warmth to those you care about."This is a story of a bitter, lost boy, who finds himself through someone else's eyes.





	1. Fallin' man

**Author's Note:**

> Hello fellow vikings! This is my very first attempt of writing a fanfic so bear with me, okay? This is based on the time in the series where Ivar comes back from England to find his mother killed. I changed some of the events and made it a little different just for fun... I've just been reading alot of vikingfics lately and felt like creating one of my own, so here I am! Give it a go!

Ivar clung to the side of the boat with all the strength he had left. It wasn't only because he was terrified of water (especially after his previous voyage), but because he was furious. He couldn't believe how his father had dared to give himself up to king Ecbert. Not when everything could've been avoided. The whole revenge raid to England had been a huge mistake. They had lost all their men and boats to the sea. Ivar leaned over the side of the boat and spat in the dark water. He watched as the surface swallowed his saliva and mirrored his upset figure. Maybe the Gods had wished for all this to happen? Was Odin himself behind the storm that had taken the lives of many of their men and ships? Was all this a revenge from the Great Hall? Were the Gods mad at him?

Ivar took a deep breath and tried to ignore the sickness that turned his guts upside down. Fortunately the ship was supposed to land in a day or so. Sailing was one of Ivar's least favourite things. Although he craved for adventure and danger, the sea always had the best of him. There was no denying. Water was his weakness.

He couldn't eat or drink properly for days, which was why he didn't even notice the familiar landscape when the boat finally arrived on the shore of Kattegat. Ivar's mind was filled with questions and pure anger, when someone shook his shoulder to snap him out of his thoughts.

”We have arrived, Ivar.”

Ivar eyed the man above him and a small rush of relief filled him. No more sitting in a rocking boat, he thought. It was the only comfort he could possibly find. Everything else made him feel mad and frustrated. Just a thought of his father in that rusty cage made his body shiver from anger. He was hungry for revenge.

And he was going to get it.

Ivar stretched his arms and back before grabbing the side of the boat with firm hands. His palms had become numb and rough after years and years of dragging his body around, so he couldn't feel the sticks that tried to pierce his thick skin. He groaned while he dragged himself towards the bow of the ship, his stomach still sore from throwing up and eating so little.

His feet got stuck between two oars on the way, but he fiercely threw the wooden sticks overboard.

”Stupid oars... stupid boat...” he grunted, finally reaching the bow. Everyone moved out of his way, when he swung his useless legs higher to get to the very top of the prow. Ivar couldn't help but to chuckle when he saw the familiar village and the children playing in the shore. He wanted to tell his brothers about what their father had said to him about avenging him. He couldn't wait to see his mother's face when she'd realize she had been wrong about him drowning. He had missed his mother, even though he had enjoyed his time on his own, without her constantly patronizing him and telling him what he should or shouldn't do. After all, she was his mother and she loved him. Just like he loved her.

The boat arrived on the shore with a crash, which almost threw Ivar overboard. He squeezed the side of the boat and swung his body on the edge, letting his useless limbs hang towards the water. At first, everything looked the same. People were running towards the boats, wondering what had happened to all the other men that had joined Ragnar on his raid to England. Some seemed to realize immediately, while others looked confused. Ivar slowly dropped himself from the edge of the boat and shrieked as he landed in water. A small hand grabbed his arm, and as Ivar looked up, he saw a young blond boy trying to yank him towards the land. An unfamiliar warmth replaced his chronic anger and he felt his lips curve into a gentle smile.

”Thank you little one”, he spoke softly when his hands finally touched the dry earth. The young boy nodded firmly and replied to his smile.

”Welcome back Ivar.”

It didn't take long from Ivar to realize that something was terribly wrong. After a while of looking around for his brothers and mother, he knew something very bad had happened. He couldn't even bother to respond to people who were asking about their loved ones. What was he supposed to tell them? That they had drowned? That Thor had decided to ruin their voyage with thunder and pouring rain? That he and his father had murdered them in cold blood?

Why on earth would he tell those things to anyone? These people wanted to know that their husbands and sons had died fighting, not from an axe of a cripple. These people didn't need to know the truth. So Ivar decided to make things simple.

”Ragnar Lothbrok is dead!” he announced so loud everyone could hear him. He didn't know for sure if he had died yet, but he knew that it was going to happen, sooner or later. His father's fate was settled, and there was no changing it.

For a moment it felt like the whole village had stopped breathing. Everything froze for a second and the tension in the air could've been cut with a blade. Some women started crying when they couldn't find their husbands from the boats. Some children fell on their knees in the sand.

A darkness floated above Kattegat as the word spread to everyone's ears.

Ivar hadn't still found his mother from the crowd.

He started to become impatient. His mother should've been there, among the first ones. She should've been the one to help him out of the water, not that little boy. And where were his brothers? Surely they hadn't gone with Björn and Hvitserk.

”Ivar!”

The dark haired boy turned to face the owner of the voice. For his surprise he was faced with Margrethe, the blond slave girl who had held him many times as he had fallen asleep next to her. Of course she was afraid of him, and probably even despised him, but he couldn't care less. As long as she did what he wanted, he was pleased. Ivar was used to people looking down on him. Nowadays he just tried to ignore what everyone thought about him. Or he would just slit their throats.

Ivar raised his brows at the girl. The worry on her face made him feel uneasy. Something had definitely happened while he had been away. When Margrethe didn't speak right away, Ivar grabbed her wrist and yanked her closer to him.

”What is it?” he hissed threateningly.

Margrethe wriggled under his hands but didn't try to get away. Her frightened grey eyes met Ivar's furious blue ones as she opened her mouth.

”Queen Aslaug...”

”What about my mother?”, Ivar shouted furiously. ”Where is she? Where are my brothers?”

Margrethe swallowed and squeezed her hands into fists. Ivar could feel her stiffen under his touch. ”Your mother... is dead.”

For a while all he could see was red. He heard Margrethe's distant scream when his fingers sunk deep into her skin and left dark purple marks around her wrists. He felt something snap in his grip, and assumed it had to be one of her delicate bones. Oh how weak her hands were, to break with such a little effort. Ivar let his hands drop against his sides as he waited for his vision to come back. When he finally could see the blond figure slowly backing away from him, he dropped down on the ground with a roar and started to crawl. He knew exactly where to go. He had an idea about who was behind all this. That filthy murderer, cold hearted witch...

Both of his brothers ran up to him when he reached the Great Hall.

”Ivar-”

”Get out of my way brother!” Ivar growled and shot his brother, Ubbe, a death glare. His other brother, Sigurd, stood quietly next to him. Ubbe tried to grab Ivar by his shoulder, but the boy quickly punched his hand away. ”Don't touch me!”

”Calm down Ivar! There's nothing we can do about it!” Sigurd said and took a step closer to the two. Ivar had to concentrate hard on keeping himself ”calm” and from swinging his axe through his brothers' guts. He glared at his brothers with pure hatred in his strikingly blue eyes.

”Yes there is. We have to avenge her.”

”Not now Ivar! It's not a good ide-”

”It is a perfect idea, Sigurd!” Ivar gnarled again. He pushed himself through and entered the Great Hall. It almost looked like everyone had been waiting for him. Ivar searched through the crowd, looking for those arrogant and amused faces he always encountered whenever he entered a room. Ubbe and Sigurd followed him, walking just a foot behind him to cover his back.

Ivar's eyes traveled across the hall, all the way to the thrones, where her mother would've been sitting with a welcoming smile on her face. But now, instead of seeing his mother, Ivar saw Lagertha. His father's former wife.

He gritted his teeth as he crawled closer to the thrones. People moved aside as he made his way through the crowd. The only sound in the room came from his daggers when he pulled himself forward on the floor. Lagertha's face melted into a tired smile as she watched him crawl his way in front of her. Ivar stared deep into the woman's eyes and never broke eye contact. He wanted his eyes to be the last thing she ever saw.

”I see that you have arrived, Ivar”, Lagertha spoke slowly, watching Ivar's every movement. She shivered slightly when the boy let out a bubbly giggle, filled with hatred. She had never heard anyone let out such an evil laughter. Ivar slid his hand on his axe.

”And I see that you have made yourself comfortable on my mother's throne”, Ivar spat out. He could hear Ubbe taking a step closer to him, clearly clueless of Ivar's next move.

”I did what I saw was fair.” Lagertha's voice was calm and steady, unlike Ivar's. He was shaking from rage towards this woman. ”Your mother bewitched my husband and stole him from me. She stole my whole life.”

”You murdered my mother!” Ivar roared and squeezed his axe with all his strength. ”And you shall pay for it!”

Only then things started to happen. Ivar swung his axe in the air and threw it across the hall, only for it to smash against a wooden shield above Lagertha's head. At the very same moment Ubbe grabbed his brother by his shoulders and pinned him against the floor.

”Not now Ivar!” he grunted as he held his brother down. Sigurd used the opportunity to remove Ivar's other weapons, such as knives and daggers.

Ubbe's knee on Ivar's chest made it almost impossible for the crippled boy to breathe, so he had to really concentrate on staying conscious. He was still starving after the long voyage, and most of all out of energy. He bit his lip and tried to calm down the fire that swirled inside him. Oh how much he wanted to sink his dagger into Lagertha's chest. He could almost smell the blood he would draw out of her as he would rip her rib cage open with his bare hands. Ivar's lips curved into a wicked smile as he dreamed of killing the woman that had taken his mother away from him. He could see his mother's proud eyes approving his plan.

When Ivar finally stopped resisting, Ubbe and Sigurd took a step back and let him sit up. Ivar immediately locked eyes with Lagertha. He grinned widely as he spoke, ”Fine. I will not kill you now.” He grabbed a dagger from Sigurd's hands and admired it's sharp edge with glowing eyes. ”But I will kill you, Lagertha. Your fate is... fixed.”

Even though it took him hours to get there, Ivar decided to go to his favourite spot in Kattegat; a bald hill where his father had once buried his raiding treasures. The sky was grey and full of dark clouds, when he fell on his back on the wet ground and let out a quiet whimper.

Gentle raindrops started to fall from the sky as he lied down. They fell down his neck and temples, washing away the sweat that had creeped on his skin while he had struggled his way up on the hill. Ivar couldn't feel the anger anymore. An overwhelming emptiness filled his soul and mind. His parents were both dead. The only people that had genuinely cared for him, were now gone forever. He was completely, utterly, alone.

Ivar sat up and pulled up his hood to hide from the rain. A crash of thunder could be heard striking somewhere behind the horizon. It started from his fingers. The pain that usually lingered in his lower body, crawled up to his stomach and chest. His hands started shaking violently and his throat felt dry. It wasn't anger that took over his body. It was heartbreak.

”Mother...” his lips parted slightly as he whispered into the nippy air. The cold draught brushed against his hot tongue and made his whole body tremble. ”Father...” Ivar could feel the hot tears fall down his cheeks. The fire was everywhere. In his legs, in his stomach and head. It burned the back of his head like someone had held his head next to a fire. He was so alone it physically hurt him.

”Father...” he broke down into a loud sob. The thunder boomed once again behind the hills. Ivar looked up to the sky and screamed his burning lungs out. He screamed until there was nothing left of his voice. He screamed until he felt like he was choking, like he was breathing out dust. The memories of his beloved mother came back to him as he wept for his very own broken soul. He memorized the colour of his mother's eyes and how her bony fingers had felt against his scalp whenever she played with his hair. He remembered the sound of her voice whenever she comforted him in his despair. She had been his strength, his safe haven from the cruel world. The cruel world that was so keen to see him suffer. To see poor, poor Ivar lose everything he actually cared for. It was the Gods' will. He was fated to live alone, always angry, always bitter. The memories of her mother slowly faded as he remembered his father's words.

_You are special. Not in spite of your legs, but because of them. ___

__Ivar sunk his fingers into the earth and stared down at his crippled feet, tears still blocking his view. He shook his head incredulously. If only he could walk. Stand like an ordinary man. He would've been invincible._ _

___Everyone will always underestimate you. Make them pay for it. _____

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___”I will make them pay for it”, Ivar murmured under his breath. He closed his eyes and saw his father in front of him, smiling mischievously. He knew it was all in his head, but he couldn't help but to reach out to his father. His shaking hands groped the air in front of him, trying to grab the cloth of his father's tunic. Ragnar Lothbrok blinked slowly and placed his hands on his son's shoulders. His eyes looked deep into Ivar's soul and he couldn't help but cry. He would never feel his father's hands on his shoulders again. It was unfair. He had just gotten him back. He had just started to endure his joke of a life._ _ _

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___Even though Ivar couldn't hear his father, he remembered his last words to him. And those words made him feel powerful. He wanted to make everyone pay for his loss._ _ _

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____Be ruthless _.__ _ __

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The next few days flew by quickly, as Ivar tried to come up with a plan. He was determined to avenge his mother's death, but Lagertha wasn't exactly easy to get to. She had multiple bodyguards and spying eyes and ears everywhere. Sometimes Ivar felt like he couldn't trust anyone, not even his brothers. He spent his days and nights rehearsing and planning, and most of all, resting. His body was still recovering from the unfortunate voyage, which was why he needed all the rest he could possibly have. Between rehearsing and coming up with a plan, he just closed his eyes wherever he was, and fell into an uneasy sleep. Sometimes he woke up to his own cries, sometimes he woke up covered in sweat. It wasn't easy to rest when all he could think of was death and revenge. He dreamed of his father's death, his mother's frozen, dead eyes and how he would die trying to kill Lagertha.

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Which was not going to happen. Ivar knew he would be the one to kill her. He knew the Gods were on his side on this one. There was no doubt.

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After all he had been through. After all the anger, the pain, he was finally getting his part of it all. He would kill Lagertha.

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It was raining once again, when Ivar dragged himself through the muddy doorway to his brother's lodge. He had decided what to do, and he wanted to keep his brothers close, in case of anything went wrong with his plan. He knew Sigurd had his doubts about killing Lagertha, but he trusted Ubbe. He had seen the pain in his eyes when Ubbe had stopped him from killing Lagertha. He wanted her to die, but in a way that would spare his own life. Ivar however couldn't care less about his own life, as long as he would take the life of the woman that killed his mother. He was going to do it, whether it would be the last thing he did or not.

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Ubbe stood up from his wooden bench when he spotted Ivar in the doorway. He knew right away what was going on in the crippled boy's mind.

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”Ivar”, he spoke with his soft, yet husky voice. Ubbe's blue eyes squinted slightly when he saw his brother's wicked grin. Sigurd stared at Ivar with lazy eyes and nodded his head arrogantly.

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”So how is the suicide mission coming along?” he asked raising a brow.

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Ivar huffed and gritted his teeth together. ”Why do you ask? Do you want to die too?”

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Ubbe chuckled and pulled out a chair for Ivar. Sigurd just rolled his eyes and filled his horn with ale.

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”I have come to share my plan with you”, Ivar said, after climbing on the chair and grabbing a cup from the table next to him. ”I will kill Lagertha tonight.”

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Ubbe tilted his head with squinted eyes. ”And how exactly are you going to do that?”

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Ivar sighed and accidentally spilled some ale on himself and on a reindeer fur on the floor. He looked at the wet spot on his tunic and frowned. ”By crushing every bone in her body, of course”, Ivar said, as if he was talking to a child. It made Ubbe chuckle again. Sigurd took another sip from his ale, glaring at Ivar with his snake eye.

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”So what is the plan?” Ubbe asked impatiently. Ivar smirked widely at his brother's anticipation. He downed his cup and threw it behind him, wiping his mouth to his sleeve.

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”This is the plan.”

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After explaining the steps to the murder of Lagertha, Ivar was sweating of excitement. He was staring at his brothers in anticipation, panting of bloodlust. ”So what do you say?”

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A mischievous smile grew on Ubbe's lips as Ivar's words sunk in his mind. ”Sounds like a good plan.”

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”I disagree”, Sigurd murmured. ”We would all just get ourselves killed, that's all. I'm not doing it.”

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Ivar shrugged. ”Then don't. I'm sure it is nice to live knowing you betrayed your own mother.”

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Sigurd let out an angry growl, which only made Ivar giggle. ”It is alright, we do not need a coward like you to help us”, he said softly.

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That made Sigurd stand up and grab his dagger from the table. However, Ivar was faster than his brother, and in a blink of an eye, he had his blade on Sigurd's throat. The sleepless nights of practicing were now paying off.

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”Lower your blade, Ivar”, Ubbe commanded and stood up from his bench. Ivar's hand was steady and suave, as he drove the blade up and down Sigurd's neck.

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”Do not-”, he spat, eyes glowing from hatred. ”-test me. _Brother _.”__

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__Everyone in that room knew, that Ivar didn't care who he was facing. Whether it was his brother or not, he would kill anyone who tried to challenge him._ _

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__And that was what made Ivar the most feared viking of all._ _

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Everything went just like Ivar had planned. Some of the men that had come to join the Great Army, had agreed to help Ivar and Ubbe with their mission to kill Lagertha. They managed to take down the guards at the front door of the Great Hall and get inside without drawing too much attention. The men who joined them, slowly crept behind Lagertha's shieldmaiden guards and silently raised their blades against the oblivious women's neck. Ivar had been following the happenings from the shadows, with a widening smirk on his dry lips. He waited for the room to fall completely silent, before he dragged himself out of the shadows and settled in the middle of the big room. He was so close to fulfilling his fantasy, that it made his fingertips tingle. Even though Lagertha was very good at hiding her fear, Ivar could see the terror in her helpless eyes. And it made him so, so happy.

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Without a word, Lagertha stood up from her throne. She turned to pick up her sword and slowly walked over to Ivar. Then the worst possible thing happened.

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The massive wooden doors flew open.

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”If you kill her my brothers -” Björn started, playing with his dagger. His eyes were focused on his hand holding the weapon. ”- you'll have to kill me too.”

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Once again, all Ivar could see was red. This had been his moment. He didn't hesitate when his lips parted to hiss out words. ”Maybe we should.”

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”Shut up”, Ubbe grunted behind him, knowing that they would have to back away. There was no point in challenging Björn Ironside, Ragnar's firstborn son.

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Even Ivar knew it. Somewhere, in the back of his head, he knew that he wouldn't be able to outweigh Björn. His fingertips filled with helpless anger, as he stared at the giant in front of him.

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”She killed our mother”, Ubbe accounted, when no one would speak up.

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”I know”, Björn said calmly, his voice sounding exactly like their father's. ”You want revenge. So would I.” The broad-shouldered man took a deep breath. ”But more importantly we have to avenge our father. That is why I came back.”

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Ivar couldn't get a word out of his mouth. He wanted to scream. The pain crept up his legs to his guts and made his vision blurry. A low growl escaped his parted lips. He wanted to show this arrogant giant what he was made of. He wanted to-

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Björn took a step closer to Ivar, who was sitting on the ground, crippled legs facing the door. Ivar leaned in to meet his brother's cold eyes. He could smell the sea in his breath, taste the fresh breath of air that lurked inside the hall through the open door. He stared right into his brother's squinted blue eyes.

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”And that...” Björn spoke softly, almost like he was breathing out the words. ”... is what we are going to do.”

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	2. By the stream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First encounter.

Ivar found comfort in solitude. When he was alone in the woods or by the water, it didn't hurt so badly. It was like, he wasn't so alone when he indeed was alone. He liked to forget who he was, and what he was. In the hem of the nature, he was nobody. He no longer was the falling man, he was dirt, air, a root of an old pine. He became whatever he chose to lean on, whatever he touched.

Everyone knew Ivar the Boneless. The crippled son of Ragnar Lothbrok. The madman who acted before thinking. But no one knew the Ivar, who longer for someone. Just someone who would smile at him like his mother did. Someone who would hold him and rest beside him, skin against skin. After all, Ivar wasn't what he made everyone believe he was. It was just a mask he used to protect his delicate heart.

Something that he kept telling himself was; no one could ever love a heartless cripple.

And yet he made himself look as heartless as a man could be.

Ivar kept coming to the stream every day. He would tell his brothers that he went to the training field to practice archery, when in in reality he found himself sinking in thoughts next to the flowing water, lulled to sleep by the songs of the mountains and the animals living there. Since his mother was now dead, the stream had become his safe haven.

One day Ivar decided to crawl to the highest hill in Kattegat. Floki had told him stories about his father's friend Athelstan, the christian man that poisoned his father's mind with the christian god and their christian ways. Ivar knew about the priest's grave, but he had never actually seen it with his own eyes. He had no idea what he would find from the top of the hill, but he was determined to find out. Even though it took him hours to drag his crippled feet behind him on the very top, he didn't give up. This was how he had chosen to spend his time. His brothers wouldn't listen to his ideas about the revenge, so he had nothing to do in the village. He was tired of getting ignored and laughed at. It did make his insides boil, but what on earth was he supposed to do? Kill his own brothers?

Ivar didn't let out a single curse while crawling his way up the hill. He did shriek whenever a bunch of rocks fell down the hill, only to hit him in the head or face, but other than that, he kept it in. There was no point in cursing the earth for something he had decided to do.

When he finally reached the top, he fell on his back and took a while to just catch his breath. He let out a chuckle when he thought about how painful the next day would be. The thing was, it wasn't exactly painful to climb to the top, but it was extremely painful to recover. He couldn't even move properly whenever he did something as strength-consuming as this. But Ivar knew it only made him stronger. All the pain, physical and emotional.

The sky had turned grey while he had been busy crawling up the hill. It looked like it was going to rain soon. Again. Ivar groaned and rolled on his stomach, to examine the new area. The first thing that caught his attention, was the scenery. His jaw dropped and his eyes widened of awe.

He had never seen anything as breathtakingly beautiful. His eyes roamed hungrily through the landscape, devouring every detail. He fell in love with the way the sky parted from the sea, leaving a delicate line between them. He fell in love with the fresh air that slithered through his parted lips to his lungs. Ivar took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

Then he heard a crack behind him.

There was no way someone could've followed him. His ears were sharp enough to detect any movement behind him. That was one of the tricks he had learned on account of not being able to turn so quickly. Ivar turned slowly to look behind him, aware of all the options it could've been. He knew well enough not to startle a bear.

To his surprise, he was not interrupted by a bear. Ivar lowered himself to hide behind the bushes, when he saw her.

The girl stumbled into a rock and fell on her face in the dirt. Ivar's lips quickly curved into a mocking smile, but he managed to hold in his chuckle. He didn't want to be seen. Not alone, in the middle of nowhere, next to a christian grave.

The girl had dark brown hair, the exact same colour as the stream in the forest, that Ivar very much liked. Her eyes were dark and expressionless, like two rocks in a beachwater. She had a beautiful hourglass figure, that was clumsily cloaked by a dirty ankle-length woolen dress. Her feet were so dirty he couldn't even tell if she was wearing any footwear.

Ivar watched her silently as she crawled back up and tamped the dirt off of her dress. Ivar found it strangely heartwarming to see someone else chest against the earth, clothes dirty of mud and sand. It was always him who had his body on everyone's knee height.

The girl looked around and rested her eyes on the landscape for a while. It gave Ivar time to look at her properly. To memorize her features, so he could recognize her when he'd go back to the village. Ivar never even bothered to look at girls, since he knew there was nothing they could give him, and the other way around. His eyes followed the girl when she turned around and made her way through the bushes. He couldn't help but to follow her.

While following her, he found himself admiring the way she carried herself. She wasn't like the slave girls that walked jaw against chest, eyes focused on the ground. No, this girl held her chin up and her eyes wandered around like she was admiring everything she saw. He wondered if she'd look at him like that too.

Probably not.

The girl stopped on the edge of a cliff and drew something out of a leatherbag she had been carrying on her waist. Ivar's curiosity grew unbearable. He crawled even closer to the stranger and squinted his eyes to see whatever she held in her hands.

When he saw the object, a chuckle escaped his mouth. A dead rabbit.

Ivar raised his eyes to meet the girl's gaze. The chuckle had given him away.

For a moment they just stared at each other, not knowing what to say or do. Both of them weren't supposed to be there, that was for sure. Wondering aimlessly near a christian grave wasn't exactly approved amongst their people.

After a while, Ivar decided to break the ice. ”What are you doing here?”

The girl kept her eyes carefully on Ivar's face. The admiration in her eyes had disappeared the second she had laid eyes on the boy. Ivar didn't let it affect him. ”I could ask you the same thing.”

”Yes, you could”, Ivar admitted, dragging himself closer to the girl. ”But I happened to ask first. So tell me.”

The girl kept her open palm next to her waist. Ivar assumed she was carrying a knife there.

”Are you here to admire the beautiful scenery?” Ivar asked raising his brows. ”Or perhaps, looking for the christian grave?"

”What do you know about it?” the girl asked eagerly. Ivar was surprised how bluntly this girl acted around him. She clearly wasn't very fond of him, but neither was she terrified or disgusted. She acted like he could've been anyone.

”I could ask you the same thing”, Ivar copied her, making the girl's lips twitch.

”I asked first.” She let her hand fall down from her waist. Ivar knitted his brows. Was she not afraid of him at all?

"Do you know who I am?” he asked quietly, brushing his fingers lightly over his collection of knives on his waist.

The girl's eyes followed his fingers as she responded. ”Yes, I know who you are.”

”Then why aren't you afraid?”

The girl turned her back to Ivar and continued what she was doing in the first place. Her hands held the dead animal like it had still been alive, like she was scared to injure it. Ivar was beyond confused. He crawled next to the girl and drew out one of his daggers. She didn't even bother to look at him.

”Are you not scared of death?” Ivar asked, holding the knife next to her delicate wrist.

”You are not a valkyrie, are you?”

Ivar let out an amused chuckle. ”No!”

”Are you Odin then?” There was a small smile playing on her lips as she teased Ivar with her questions.

”What do you mean? I am who I am”, Ivar spoke slightly irritated of the girl's attitude. ”I can kill who I want.”

”And I am sure of it”, the girl said softly. So softly, Ivar lost the grip of his dagger and dropped it on the ground. ”I just don't believe you will kill me right here, right now.”

Her words made Ivar hesitate. ”How could you know that, hm? You don't even know me.”

”And you don't know me. How could you kill someone you don't even know?”

”Easily”, Ivar hissed. His dagger was now against her skin, pressing lightly against the purple vein in her wrist. The girl didn't move. She was so calm, that for a moment Ivar questioned her humanity. She was so perfectly calm against his blade.

”Then do it.”

Ivar raised his glare from the dead animal to her eyes. His fingers were steady, as he withdrew his blade from her wrist. ”I will not take orders from you.”

It made the girl chuckle. Just a second ago she had been at the gates of Valhalla, and now she was laughing. It started a strange sensation in Ivar's stomach. He couldn't get a grip of the stranger.

”What is your name?”

The smile faded from the girl's lips as she was faced by Ivar's question.

”Come on”, Ivar sighed with a crooked smile. ”This one is easy compared to your questions."

Still she didn't answer. ”Do you not have a name, hm?” Ivar rolled on his side to rest his head on his palm. ”I'm pretty sure I did not cut your tongue. Yet.”

The girl took a quick glance at Ivar, to see if he was joking or not. Seeing the boy's playful expression, she relaxed a little and her face lit up slightly. ”I don't want to tell you my name.”

”Why?” Ivar was, once again, taken aback by her honesty.

”Because”, she started quietly, figuring out how she should proceed. ”You would kill me if I told you.”

”So you are afraid to die then”, Ivar pondered out loud. ”How about you tell me anyway?”

The girl stayed silent. Ivar took a deep breath and bit his lip.

”I promise not to kill you.”

The girl looked at Ivar, clearly shocked about his sudden switch of mood. Ivar couldn't break his promise. Both he and the girl knew it.

”Fine”, the girl spoke finally. She lifted her chin and looked at the landscape before her. Ivar watched her as the admiration returned to her gaze. ”My name is Saga Athelstansdotter.”

At first Ivar didn't see any reason for her to be ashamed of her name. But when the girl glanced behind him, to look at the cross that was placed upon the christian grave, it hit him. It was the reason she was there in the first place. She had come to visit her father's grave.

”I never knew him, but my mother told me everything”, the girl, Saga spoke softly. She didn't trust Ivar, so her hand was back on her waist, ready to fight back if the boy had suddenly attacked her. ”To be fair, she never knew him either. It all happened when they were-”

”I do not care how it happened!” Ivar suddenly growled. He squeezed the dagger in his fist. He was already regretting his promise. How could he possibly leave her alive? She had christian blood in her. Blood of an enemy.

”You promised...” Saga whispered, looking at Ivar's shaking hand that was angrily squeezing the dagger. ”I did not come here to mourn his death. I come here to please the Gods. I come here to ask for forgiveness on behalf of my father.”

Ivar gritted his teeth. ”Your father does not deserve forgiveness from our Gods.”

”No, you are right”, Saga said. ”But still, I must do it.”

”Why?” Ivar hissed. His anger was slowly passing, but he still could not come to understand this girl.

”Because he was my father, Ivar.”

Suddenly Ivar knew what the girl was talking about. He remembered how his own brothers had been ready to kill their own father, only because of what had happened with the settlement. Ivar couldn't understand them at the time. He couldn't understand why they were willing to kill their own father, for something that had nothing to do with them. For his own, and for Saga's surprise, he let go of the dagger.

”I know your father didn't do everything right either”, Saga said quietly. Ivar looked at her with warning eyes. Saga however ignored his attempt to frighten her and continued, ”Do you hate him because of that?”

Ivar shook his head. ”I loved my father.”

Suddenly he was very aware of the words he had said. He had never told anyone he had loved his father. The words had never come out of his mouth before. A warm smile spread on Saga's face.

Ivar was taken aback by the warmth of her eyes. No one, not even his mother, had ever looked at him like that. Like he was something nice to look at. Like he was something else than a heartless cripple.

In his mind, he traveled back to the stream. He became the earth he was leaning into. He wanted to ask her if she actually was the stream, in a form of a woman, but he didn't. Instead, he took off his mask and let his eyes wonder back to the landscape. The hills and the sea behind them made his heart skip a beat. It was like his heart was trying to whistle whilst grimacing. He loved his father. The sudden lash of memories made him twitch aggressively.

”I loved my father...” he whispered into the fresh mountain air.

Like a soothing breath of air, a warm hand was placed on his shoulder. Saga didn't say anything. She didn't need to. Streams weren't able to speak, yet they had a touch that could cure an aching wound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! Hope you enjoyed the chapter!:)


	3. Just a drop of your blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivar and Saga get to know each other better.

Saga did not offer to help Ivar when they both made their way down the hill. It had started raining, so it was even harder to get a grip of the wet ground. Ivar fell down the hill a couple of times, and this time he didn't spare his curse words. Every time his hand slipped, he let out an ugly litany of curses, which made Saga let out an amused giggle. For some reason Ivar didn't feel angry when she laughed at him. On the contrary, it made him feel like he had done something entertaining. It was a sensation he had never felt before in his life. Everyone was too quick to judge him, that they wouldn't give him the chance to introduce himself. With Saga it was different. She didn't seem to care who he was. He was indeed a stranger to her.

”Why have I not met you before?” Ivar asked curiously. He had lied down on an area covered by moss and lifted himself to lean against his elbows. His palms were aching badly from all the crawling, in spite of having worn his gloves the whole day. Even though his palms were hard as a pine tree's bark, he could feel the red scratches forming on his skin. A break was well needed.

Saga turned around to find the boy lifting his eyebrows. Her face looked surprised of the sudden question. She stopped climbing down the hill and took a few steps back, closer to Ivar. ”I came here from Uppsala when my mother died.”

Ivar frowned at the thought. So she was alone too. Both of her parents were dead too. _So we have that in common _, Ivar thought to himself.__

__”I want to join the Great Army.”_ _

__”You?” Ivar couldn't believe a girl that gentle had any skills when it came to battles. He couldn't imagine her holding a sword, nor an axe. Even a knife would've looked ridiculous in her hand._ _

__”Yes”, Saga said with a nod, reading Ivar's thoughts from his face. ”I'm stronger than I look.”_ _

__Ivar chuckled and shrugged slightly. ”I don't believe you.”_ _

__”I can prove it”, Saga said with a challenging tone. Ivar squinted his eyes, accepting her challenge._ _

__”Fine. Try and kill me then.”_ _

__The second Ivar had ended his phrase, Saga had pressed her small knife against Ivar's chest, right below his ribcage. She turned the blade, which made Ivar groan. A smug smile spread on her lips, when she realized her surprise attack had succeeded. Ivar replied to her smile with a frown. He quickly grabbed the knife with his hand and pinned the girl down, holding her against the ground with both, his body and his hands._ _

__Saga sighed and rolled her eyes. Ivar couldn't help but to chuckle at her frustration. This was completely new for him. Anyone who had ever been pinned down by him, had either screamed for help, or tried to wriggle out of his grip. It was beyond strange to see someone rolling their eyes so carelessly while being pinned down. It made his insides burn, this time not in a painful way. ”Still not scared?” he asked, slowly running the knife up and down her jaw. Saga shook her head, which caused the blade to scratch her cheek. Ivar watched carefully, when the cut turned red from her blood. His gaze danced on her cheek, admiring the beautiful red liquid that started to flow down her jaw._ _

__”I have heard-” Saga spoke quietly, trying to keep her head steady. ”-that you enjoy killing.”_ _

__Ivar replied with a smile. He was too busy following the red drop that currently traveled on her neck._ _

__”Is it true?”_ _

__”Oh yes”, Ivar said briskly. He didn't see anything wrong with it. He liked to watch the life flow out of a person's eyes, he thought it was beautiful. Death had always had a big effect on him. It intrigued him._ _

__Saga squeezed her lips together and looked right into Ivar's eyes. She clearly didn't feel the same, but yet again, she didn't seem terrified or disgusted. She seemed curious. ”Why?”_ _

__Ivar sighed and stretched his neck. ”Because I like it. It makes me feel...”_ _

__”Powerful?” Saga suggested. Ivar shook his head._ _

__”No. It makes me feel alive.”_ _

__”So you get something off of it?” Saga asked._ _

__”A rush, yes. It's like _witchcraft _but not”, Ivar explained, his eyes glowing of enthusiasm. Saga's eyes grew larger when he mentioned witchcraft. ”When I watch someone die”, he started with a low tone. ”I feel connected to Valhalla. I feel a connection to Odin himself. My mother had it too.”_ _ __

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__Saga listened carefully. To Ivar it seemed like she was genuinely interested in whatever he said. Her dark eyes were curious, filled with questions she didn't dare to ask. He lowered his hand to gently wipe off the drop of blood from her neck. It smudged on the tip of his finger and turned darker when it collided with the dirt. The cut on her cheek had already dried up. Ivar was extremely tempted to make another cut, but instead he slowly backed off and pushed himself off of the girl. Saga sat up, clumsily wiping off rest of the dried blood on her face. Ivar couldn't get his eyes off of the slightly faded red line that began from her cheek and ended on her neck. What a beautiful path the drop had managed to create.__

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"You really do enjoy it", Saga said, almost like she was convincing herself to believe it. Her voice made Ivar snap out of his trance. He nodded without saying a word. There was nothing more he could say. She had to either believe it and deal with it, or run off and never come back. Ivar couldn't even imagine what he would've done if she had decided to flee. Suddenly the knives on his belt felt terribly heavy. He knew he would've killed her. Thrown a knife at her. There was only so much hurt a man could take.

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"I guess it's like me and my animals." Saga placed her hand on the leather bag she was still carrying on her back. "I sacrifice them to the Gods. You have your own way."

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_Unbelievable _, Ivar thought. He had never met anyone who would've accepted his actions and passions in such manner. He didn't know how to react. Usually when he spoke about killing and the satisfaction he got from it, he received only disgusted looks and terrified shivers from people. He would always smirk at their reaction, enjoying the attention he was receiving, but this time he was clueless of what to do.__

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"What?" Saga chuckled, raising a brow. "I don't remember cutting off your tongue. Yet." There was a wide smirk on her lips.

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___Ivar punched her shoulder gently. "Shut up woman", he snorted, unable to hide his grin.___

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___Ivar found himself getting more and more involved with Saga. He would watch as she washed clothes by the stream and ask her about her life in Uppsala. They never met in the village. Ivar didn't like the way she looked amongst other people. She didn't stand as straight in the village, and her chin was slightly tilted downwards, almost touching the neck of her dress. He found it strange how she transformed the second she stepped through the bushes into the forest. It was like the village sucked all the glow from her. And that glow was the reason Ivar had laid eyes on her in the first place._ _ _

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__"My mother was a carpenter's wife", Saga said when Ivar had asked about her family. He played with his knife, running the blade up and down his left arm, enjoying the stinging sensation. He raised his gaze whenever she opened her mouth to speak. "His name was Uve. He died very young, before they could start a family."_ _

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__"Was he killed?" Ivar asked furrowing. He caught Saga's lips twitching. Had he said something funny again? He felt a small burn in his chest._ _

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__"No. He got sick." The girl squeezed a dark cloth in her hands, making it drip into the stream._ _

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__"And then your mother met Athelstan", Ivar spoke with a rhetorical tone. He had gotten used to the idea of her father having been christian, and didn't really care for it anymore. She was an interesting girl, despite her roots. Just like he was interesting to her, despite his legs._ _

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__Saga smiled softly. "They met in Uppsala when Ragnar and the others pilgrimaged there, in order to please the Gods", Saga said. "My mother told me that he was very handsome."_ _

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__"She took an interest in my father?" Ivar asked curiously._ _

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__"No, I meant Athelstan."_ _

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__Ivar snorted and rolled his eyes. He couldn't imagine a handsome christian. To him they all looked like pigs. Although looking at Saga, he couldn't imagine her father having been that ugly. Surely she had inherited some of his features. Ivar pondered if she had gotten her kind, earthly eyes from her father._ _

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__"My mother was often accused of witchcraft", Saga spoke, this time more quietly. "There was a rumor that she had killed her husband with her potions."_ _

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__Ivar switched position, so that he was leaning against a tall pine tree instead of crouching on the ground. "Well, did she?"_ _

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__Ivar admired the little maniac smile that hovered on Saga's lips every now and then. It definitely didn't go hand in hand with her image, but he liked it nevertheless. It was like they would've had more in common than what he had first expected. The girl definitely had a dark side, and Ivar was more than eager to get to know it._ _

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__"Who knows", she finally said with a small shrug. "She told me that he caught a sickness and there was nothing she could do."_ _

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__"Interesting", Ivar cooed, squinting his eyes. "Did she also bewitch the priest to sleep with her?"_ _

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__Saga stopped rubbing the clothes. Her eyes drifted to stare into the woods. "I would like to think she didn't."_ _

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__"But you are not sure", Ivar continued for her._ _

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__"No", Saga said briskly and started rubbing the clothes again, this time more furiously. Ivar watched quietly as the girl let out her frustration through her hands. At that very moment he felt a deep connection to her, seeing her like that. Ivar did the exact same thing whenever he thought of something painful. He shut out the world and let the anger flow out of him through his fingertips. He wondered if they could find a way to do it together. To be furious together._ _

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__"My mother could see things before they happened", Ivar said after a while, when Saga had calmed down a little. "She predicted my... malformation."_ _

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__"And yet she carried you?" Saga asked, clearly surprised._ _

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__Ivar nodded. "Although I wish she had not."_ _

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__Saga turned on her heels and let her knees drop against the moss. Her hands were red from cold and her nose was slightly dripping. The temperature had dropped violently during the past couple of days. Ivar could already smell the approaching winter in the air. Saga's eyes were warm and admiring when she looked at Ivar. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears. Those eyes really knew their way under Ivar's skin. She was slowly patching up his ragged heart._ _

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__"I'm glad she did."_ _

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__"You don't know what you are talking about", Ivar murmured. "You don't know how it feels..."_ _

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__Saga shook her head before Ivar could finish his sentence. She raised her hand and slowly traveled her icy fingertips from his hairline to the tip of his chin. "No, I don't. I can't even imagine how it feels."_ _

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__Ivar blinked and stared at the girl in front of him. She didn't pity him, neither did she patronize him or belittle him. The combination of her gentle touch and the words that left her lips made Ivar feel... good._ _

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__How did she do it?_ _

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__"Your hands are cold." Ivar grabbed Saga's hands in his and hid them from the nippy air. He pressed her skin gently, making the blood flow faster in her veins. When he felt her skin heat up, he raised her hands in front of his lips and breathed into them. Then he sealed his palms and rubbed them together, increasing the blood flow. When he finally lifted his head to look at Saga, he found her smiling with her eyes closed. Without giving it a single hesitant thought, he brushed his lips against her knuckles. Her smile didn't fade away. She didn't retreat._ _

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__"You don't quite live up to my expectations, Ivar the Boneless", she whispered between parted lips._ _

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__Ivar stared at her peaceful expression in confusion. "Is that a good or a bad thing?"_ _

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__Saga opened her eyes, smirking at the confused boy. "Definitely good."_ _

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!:) Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thank you for leaving comments and kudos, it means a lot to me! Next chapter is coming up in a day or two! I use too many exclamation marks!!!


	4. Healing hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivar takes a step forward - with both, his brothers and Saga.

As the days went by, Ivar begin to let go of his anger. No, he did not start treating people with grace or smile to passer-bys. He just simply felt at ease whenever he sank into his thoughts. He was comfortable when he lied in his bed late at night, contemplating his life. The constant bitterness and hatred were almost completely gone. It was like someone had poked holes in the damp walls of his fortress of melancholy and now he was able to breathe.

Sometimes he would have moments, when he couldn't handle the memories and the pain that came with them. He would hear his father's voice echoing in his head, and he wouldn't know what he was saying to him. Usually it came late at night, and he could have sworn that his father was standing in the end of his berth, looking at him with an expecting smile on his otherwise droopy face. Ivar never spoke to him, even though he believed strongly that it had really been his father, visiting him from Valhalla. He became more and more certain of the fact that he should be the one to lead the army. That was the reason his father had taken _him _with him to England. That was the reason he still visited him. That was the meaning behind his expecting grin.__

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__After a long sleepless night Ivar decided to join his brothers for a late-morning feast. It took him a while to get dressed; all the different straps and the gaiters on his feet took their time to dress. Ivar hadn't joined them for a feast after coming back from England, so this was a big step for him, to eat and drink in the Great Hall that had once belonged to his father and mother. Now it was guarded by a bunch of brainless shieldmaidens and taken by a woman that made Ivar's intestines twist. The sun was already up when he reached the doors of the hall and crawled his way inside._ _

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__There wasn't a single head that wouldn't have turned when he stopped at the doorway. Ivar could see Björn eyeing him from the corner of the room, hand slowly sliding on his waist. Ubbe's face was lit up like something miraculous would've happened. Sigurd looked as stern as always. He just rolled his eyes and continued shoving food down his throat. Hvitserk seemed cautious. He lifted his chin to see the crippled boy that had stolen everyone's attention._ _

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__"Ivar!" Ubbe roared merrily. He stood up so quickly that his stool flipped, almost hitting Sigurd on the back. "I'm glad you decided to join us!"_ _

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__Ivar just shrugged and flashed his brother a wide smile. "I can't be starving myself at a time like this, can I?" he cooed, shooting Björn a meaningful glare. The older brother just grunted and turned back to his food. Ivar crawled closer to the table and a slave girl brought him a stool immediately. He climbed on the stool and sighed when he was finally seated next to Ubbe. "We all need to be properly fed before the great battle."_ _

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__"That is true", Ubbe said, pushing his stool closer to the table._ _

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__"What have you been doing the past few days, Ivar? We haven't seen you at the training field", Sigurd asked, looking at Ivar with squinted eyes. The sunlight was shining directly in his eyes, making the snake pattern even more visible in his iris. Ivar had never thought Sigurd could look intimidating, but staring back in his snake-eye caused an inconspicuous shiver travel through his spine._ _

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__"It's none of your business what I do with my time, Sigurd", he hissed, grabbing a piece of mutton from a big silver bowl. He was suddenly reminded about Saga. She had told him that she wanted to join the army too. What if she didn't have enough food to keep her strong for the battle? Where did she even live? Did she have enough clothes to keep her warm at night?_ _

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__Hvitserk chuckled next to Sigurd. He had been looking at Ivar for a while, and had probably noticed the sudden concern on his face. "Are you sure it's none of our business brother?" he asked with teasing tone. "Your face tells me there's something on your mind."_ _

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__"Maybe there is", Ivar said and quickly flashed a smile, hiding every single feeling he had accidentally revealed to his brother. "That doesn't mean you are entitled to know about it."_ _

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__"Come on, Ivarr", Ubbe cheered and nudged Ivar with his elbow. "Have you found a woman for yourself?"_ _

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__Ivar could feel a strange heat rise on his face. Was his face that easy to read? Did they already know about Saga? Had she told them? "Why would I want to hide something like that, hm?"_ _

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__"So Hvitserk wouldn't steal your woman?" Ubbe teased, winking at his younger brother. Something about Ubbe's words caused Ivar's fingers to curl against his palms._ _

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__"He won't" Ivar breathed, heart bounding heavy in his chest. Everyone's eyes turned to watch him closely. Ubbe seemed knowledgeable, meanwhile Hvitserk's expression was something between confusion and amusement. Sigurd's eyes were curious, with a hint of envy._ _

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__"So does that mean you have indeed found someone?" Ubbe's voice was cautious. He was aware of his brother's fiery temperament._ _

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__Ivar tilted his head, slightly enjoying the attention he was drawing to himself. He picked up a horn and poured it full to the brim. His thoughts were on a crossroads. There was definitely something between him and Saga, but what he didn't know was; what was it exactly? A deep connection? They lived in similar worlds and shared similar experiences. They shared their view of the world. Both Saga and Ivar saw the world as it was, from the top of that hill they had met. They didn't wear any masks when they were together. It was both intimate and comforting. "I _have _found someone."___ _

Ivar crawled towards the stream, carefully thinking about his next move. He had told his brothers and everyone in the Great Hall (including the queen) that he was involved with a woman. And that woman was Saga.

But he hadn't told that to Saga herself. And that was making him nervous - to the point where he turned back many times and started to crawl towards the village, only to turn around again and move faster towards the stream. He knew he would find her there. She had been there every day, for a week now. If she hadn't been there now, it would've been the Gods' will.

Ivar found her by the water. She was so focused on dipping the cloth in the flowing water, that she didn't even notice Ivar. He hummed to himself and stopped a few feet away from her, admiring her figure. She was wearing green, which made her almost blend into the forest around her. For sure she wasn't a typical woman. She was part of the woods. Her features were foreign, thanks to her unusual roots. Her nose was delicate and pointy, unlike the other women's in the village. Her jawline was more visible, which was one of Ivar's favourite things about her appearance. It made her whole image look almost noble. Ivar pursed his lips and let out a bird-like whistle.

Saga turned around. Her lips had already curved into a sweet smile. She could tell it was Ivar from the second the noise had aired. "I didn't know you could make a sound like that", she said while eyeing the dark-haired boy.

"I can make a whole lot of sounds you don't know about", Ivar said with a smirk. Saga raised her brows curiously.

"Is that so?" she asked, dropping the clothes in a basket that was laying by the stream. Ivar followed her with his gaze. "Can you give me an example?"

"No", Ivar said gently with a tint of incitement. "They only come out in certain situations."

"What type of situations?" Saga started crawling closer to Ivar. The sight of her moving in a way that was so familiar to Ivar, made his heart bound out of excitement. He felt like he was on the same level with her. Physically and mentally.

"You will have to find out yourself", Ivar said with a chuckle.

Saga stopped in front of Ivar, gazing him with her head tilted slightly. She reached to his legs and gently placed her palms against them. Ivar could feel the energy flowing through the touch of her hands. "Does this hurt?"

Ivar shook his head briskly. "No."

Her hands traveled on the fabric of his trousers, massaging and stroking, tickling and squeezing his aching muscles. Ivar would've closed his eyes, if he wasn't trapped glaring at the girl's face. She looked like she wasn't present. Something about her face reminded him of someone. Someone he had met in his dreams maybe? Or when he was a child? Maybe he had seen her mother before she had died? Saga's lips parted and she let out a desperate sigh.

Ivar leaned closer to her and captured her breath. The air was cold, but her breath was warm and tasted like smoke and honey. Saga didn't even raise her gaze when Ivar moved closer to her. She was so focused on whatever she was doing. Ivar watched carefully as her lips quivered. He wasn't sure if she was cold or whispering something under her breath. Probably both. Ivar could feel an odd sensation traveling up his legs. Even through the fabric of his clothes, her hands had a strange healing effect on him, on his body. At that moment Ivar was sure that her mother had been involved with witchcraft. She had obviously taught Saga a thing or two. Saga shivered when Ivar placed his hand on her arm. He wanted to try if her whole body was radiating this weird heat. To his surprise, her arm was cold and bony. If he would've seen her skin, it would've probably been white as snow. Like a bone with a layer of skin on top. It looked, and felt like her blood was flowing only in her hands.

"What are you doing?" Ivar breathed finally. Saga glanced at him, giving him a "trust me"-look. She ran her hands down his shins, taking turns on massaging his calves and caressing the skin under his clothing.

When she was done, her face changed drastically. One moment she had been dead serious, ignoring the world around her, and next she was smiling, eyes wide and friendly like nothing had happened. She glanced at Ivar's hand on her arm.

"What was that?" Ivar asked furrowing. He couldn't get rid of the feeling that he had experienced something similar many years ago. It made him feel anxious.

"How do you feel?" Saga asked, ignoring Ivar's question.

Ivar leaned back and listened to his body quietly for a moment. He felt calm. The eerie pain, which he had learned to live with, was gone. His head felt light and his shoulders dropped down relaxedly, making his breaths deeper and more even. He felt like every muscle in his body was relaxed, even his face. The angry crease between his eyebrows was now completely gone, leaving his expression apathetic. "Tired", he responded finally. He had come to the stream to ask Saga about them, and to ask what was going on between them, but found himself utterly exhausted in front of her.

Saga raised her hand to touch Ivar's forehead - the little space between his eyebrows, that was now perfectly smooth. "Do you wish to sleep?"

Ivar moved his head so that her hand fell against his cheek. "Only if you join me."

The two looked straight into each others eyes for a long time, before either of them spoke. The air was filled with silent questions and answers, which neither of them wanted to ask or say.

"Don't give me that look", Saga said after a while. She let her hand fall in her lap.

"What look?" Ivar asked. His eyes couldn't pick which of her eyes to look. They were both deep and dark as the sea that had once tried to drown him.

"That look-", Saga whispered and looked away. "It makes a leafless tree sough."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there fellow vikings! I planned to make this chapter longer and not cut if off here, but it would've taken a lot longer to post (my current schedule is hell) so here you go. Wouldn't you give me your thoughts on it? Thank you for everyone that has left kudos or comments or who just simply reads this (hi), it honestly means a lot to me:) U da best!


	5. Two hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A moment of bliss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a short chapter! I got very inspired by a particular poem and felt like sharing the feeling it gave me with you so here's the outcome:) I'll post more tomorrow!

Ivar crawled towards his special spot in Kattegat; the little hill where his father had buried some of the treasures he had collected on his raids. Saga walked slowly beside him, stopping every once in a while to admire her surroundings. Ivar caught her looking at him the same way she had looked at the scenery near the priest's grave. He figured that she marvelled the way he moved; dragging himself forward with his strong arms. Sure it was a unique thing about him, but Ivar didn't find it admirable. He found it embarrassing and ridiculous. There was nothing noble about it. Saga however couldn't get her eyes off of him,not even when they arrived to his spot, where the view was insanely beautiful.

"My father showed me this place", Ivar mumbled, collapsing fully on the ground, panting of exhaustion. He wiped most of the sweat off of his temples and chin, but couldn't bother to care about the little drops on his forehead. "I come here often."

Saga just hummed and sat next to Ivar, leaning her palms against the ground. Her body was once again radiating the familiar heat that Ivar had grown to like. Being near her felt like floating in hot water. His body moved automatically closer to her, closer to the warmth that made his body hair stand up. Saga noticed Ivar's subconscious little move and smiled to herself.

"My brothers know about us", Ivar spoke suddenly, breaking the relaxing silence. "I told them this morning."

Saga froze next to him. Her whole body turned into rock, as the words escaped Ivar's lips. He furrowed and turned to look at her properly. Saga stared at the view in front of her, eyes wide from surprise. She had not expected it.

"You are not happy", Ivar said, more to himself than to Saga. "Do you not like me?"

Saga shook her head quickly, responding to his gaze with eyes full of concern. "It's not that, Ivar."

Ivar bit his lower lip and clenched his jaw, unable to read the woman in front of her. What else could it be?

Saga didn't turn away. She stared straight into his eyes, as her gaze turned more and more hesitant. Ivar kept his calm and stared back. He would wait until she told him what was going on. Saga raised her hand to touch his face, but he grabbed her hand before it could touch his skin. If she didn't want to be with him, why would she act like this? There was something she wasn't telling him. She wasn't honest. Ivar pushed her hand away, still not breaking the eye-contact. "What is it."

Saga swallowed loudly. Ivar watched her throat as it jumped when she swallowed her saliva. All the trust and the comfort that she had given him, were slowly fading, as they looked at each other.

"I'm married."

Ivar felt like someone had thrown a big rock against his chest, and all the air was punched out of his lungs.

"After my mother died, I had no property, or a name that could have carried me! I had no choice but to marry", she explained as she followed the different emotions that were dancing on Ivar's face. He was hurt. Not because she was married. But because she had failed to tell him and still seduced him like she would have been available. She already belonged to someone. Saga's face turned painful when she realized what she had done. "I should have told you."

Ivar couldn't get his eyes off of her. He was angry, for sure. But the way her face twisted of agony when she knew how it was hurting him, lit a small fire in his chest. It was like a delicate finger had appeared before his screaming heart and hushed it. The longer he kept staring at her, the more he grew aware that he couldn't be angry. Not at her. If it had been anyone else, he would've had done something already. Saga seemed to notice that too.

She held her lower lip between her teeth and tried to touch his face again. This time Ivar didn't protest. He watched her silently, as she traveled her fingers along the side of his face. "Marriage is nothing, Ivar", she whispered, eyebrows twitching of despair. "Affection is what matters."

"People marry out of affection", Ivar said. His eyes were dancing between hers.

Saga shook her head. "I didn't. I did it out of fear."

Ivar frowned. He didn't know what to say, so he cupped her face and wiped a single strand of hair behind her ear. He knew some women had to marry to survive, but he had never actually met one. How awful, to marry a man just to stay warm and fed. To have a roof on top of her head. He let out a sigh.

"I didn't tell them your name", Ivar mumbled. Then a gentle grin took over his face. "Your christian father is to thank for that."

Saga let out a relieved, tense chuckle. Ivar was glad she didn't look worried anymore. He was astonished of how much he actually cared for her. Just seeing her smile lightened up his mood. "Let us make a deal."

Saga raised her brows. "A deal?"

Ivar nodded, brushing her face like there had been hair all over it. "I won't tell anyone, if-" he paused, shooting a meaningful glare at her. "-you will not share a bed with your husband any longer. You must sleep elsewhere."

"Where do I sleep then?" she asked, leaning against Ivar's warm hands. They were rough and hard after years and years of crawling, but still his touch was as light as a butterfly's.

"I don't know", Ivar responded. "With me?"

"He would notice my absence", Saga said, but her face revealed her excitement. It was all that mattered to Ivar.

"Wouldn't you think he would notice anyway? I mean-", Ivar smirked smugly. The flames were building up inside him, ready to burst. "-I will conquer you when the time is right."

Then he closed the gap between them. His lips were devouring her taste like flames licked a dry earth, catching fire on every small plant they reached. When she replied to his moves with hunger, something snapped inside him. Like a gate that he had banged his whole life had suddenly flown open before his eyes. He felt like finally, someone answered his screams from the other side of the ocean, and the waves grew taller and hit the rocks more fiercely. He inhaled her breath, tasting it on his tongue. Once again the sweet mix of honey and smoke threw him over the edge. Her hot fingers dug into his neck, pulling him even closer. He bent into her, with his whole being. They weren't only humans that had found their other half - they had also found their world.

Ivar broke the kiss to look into her eyes. He wanted to cherish that moment, to always remember it. He remembered when Floki had told him about love. He remembered the way he looked at Helga - his eyes always glittering and full of gratitude. He could relate now. At the time he had just chuckled and shaken his head, not giving any space for such thoughts. Now he gave them all the space they needed. Saga's eyes mirrored his feelings. It was definitely mutual.

Saga leaned in to taste his mouth once more. Her breaths were shaky and rough against his lips. Ivar could tell that she hadn't kissed anyone in a long time. She was devouring him like she hadn't eaten in years and his lips were the sweetest thing she had ever felt on her tongue. Ivar traveled his hands covetously down her sides, squeezing her sensitive flesh. They were like two storms that met above the ocean and joined into a one big hurricane, as Thor beat his hammer fiercely in celebration.

"Ivar..." Saga panted against his lips. Ivar wouldn't let her speak. Not when he wasn't done yet. His flame of a tongue met her teeth and licked the roof of her palate. He breathed in her spirit through his flared nostrils and finally parted from her, leaving her aching for more. She stared at him, eyes glittering.

Ivar took a deep breath and pulled her body against his. Who would've known that the time had been now. He had conquered her then and there.

"You are a flame in a man's body." Saga wrapped her arms around Ivar's neck. He looked in her eyes, trying to figure out what she meant by that. Saga noticed his contemplating expression and continued, "You're burning, Ivar. You burn others."

Ivar frowned and slightly loosened his grip on her waist. She protested and leaned closer, colliding her forehead with his. "But you can also bring light in the darkness and warmth to those you care about."

A sad smile spread on Ivar's lips. Her words hit him deep. He knew he wasn't a flower among others. He was a sun burnt weed that didn't know how to grow. Saga's words were water to his thistles. Her touch was rain to his dry strand of weed. His heart was bare before her.

"Aren't you a darling creature" Ivar murmured, sinking his grin to the pit of her neck.


	6. Two minds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivar's and Saga's first night spent together.

When the evening finally came, Saga kept her promise. After spending the day together, Ivar and Saga headed to Ivar's lodge, in the village. They had never actually met there (except when they accidentally caught a glimpse of each other in the market or something), so it was new and strange for both of them. Saga's chin dropped closer to her collarbones immediately as they reached the first lodges. Ivar noticed it and pulled the hem of her dress like a child that wanted to get picked up. Saga glanced down at him and frowned in confusion. Even her eyes were different, not as dark and deep. The greenish brown color in them wasn't as beautiful, it looked like dirty water. Ivar frowned. He wanted her to look like the magnificent creature she was. He wanted her to carry that shell of hers with pride.

"You look beautiful", he murmured. When she just stared at him without saying a word, Ivar chuckled and kept crawling. He watched as her chin rose higher and the light returned to her eyes, making the color return in them. He had succeeded. It was almost strange how well they seemed to already know each other. Like they had been close for years.

"Do you think you look beautiful?" Ivar asked suddenly, squinting his eyes. To him, Saga seemed like the most selfless person he had ever encountered. She seemed to think very little of herself, at least when they walked among others. She kept constantly staring at her feet, pressing her arms against her sides like she had done something embarrassing. Ivar couldn't understand it. She had no reason to be embarrassed. Physically she was near perfection, at least in Ivar's opinion. He didn't know her completely, since he hadn't really seen her properly, but even through her clothes he could see her womanly figure. If she had stood more straight, she would've turned every man's head in the village. Suddenly Ivar felt somewhat relieved that her posture wasn't the straightest. Maybe then she wouldn't have noticed him at all. The cripple that crawled on her knee-level.

"What?" Saga asked hesitantly. Her eyes were squinted in disbelief. "Do _I _think that I'm beautiful?"__

__"Yes." Ivar stopped in front of his lodge, quickly taking a glance at the window. Sometimes his brothers came to his house in the evening, to drink ale and talk about the upcoming battle. This time however, the lodge was quiet and empty. Only wind howled in it's wooden walls, telling them to enter and light a flame in the pit._ _

__Saga looked at her feet again._ _

__"Really? You don't believe you are beautiful?" Ivar asked with a surprised tone. He let his eyes wonder up and down her womanly body. Saga noticed Ivar's glare and wriggled in her skin. She obviously wasn't used to men looking at her like he did._ _

__"Well do you think you are beautiful?" she shot back with an arched brow. Ivar broke down into a giggle._ _

__"I'm a cripple, you silly woman! What do you think?" he said inbetween his laughter. "Of course I don't think I'm beautiful!" Ivar tilted his head as he noticed Saga's admiring eyes. They were back, making him feel strange again. "But you do, don't you?"_ _

__Saga smiled with her alluring lips, making Ivar want to pull her against him again. His hand even twitched towards her. "I do indeed."_ _

__Ivar flashed her a grin as he opened the door, gesturing her to go in before him. She walked in the dark lodge as Ivar followed her, closing the door behind him. He stared at her in the complete darkness. "What exactly makes me look beautiful, hm?" His voice was lower, more intimidating than usual. He crawled past her, to the firepit. After a few seconds, the lodge was filled with warm light, coming from Ivar's hands. He was holding a burning piece of birch bark. In the dim light, Saga looked even more alluring. The warm light really complimented her fair skin. "Come on", Ivar continued with a chuckle, when Saga didn't seem to find her words. "I'm not _that _bad!"___ _

____Saga shook her head with a gentle smile on her face. She looked around before taking a seat by the fire. A few firecrackers welcomed her with a rustling sound. "I like your eyes."_ _ _ _

____Ivar rolled his eyes dramatically. "Right, it's only my eyes now is it", he teased, placing another piece of wood in the pit between them. The flames devoured the wood hungrily, reminding Ivar of the feeling he had gotten while kissing Saga. The flames inside him were hungry too._ _ _ _

____Saga frowned at him, shaking her head slightly. Then her face straightened when she became more serious. "Sometimes I wonder if I'm imagining you."_ _ _ _

____Ivar yelped when his fingers were licked by the flames. He quickly withdrew his hand and held it against his chest. They both stared at each other in complete silence, before Ivar's lips curved into a smirk. "Don't you think you are overestimating your imagination?" He threw a small stick into the fire, causing a bunch of firecrackers to fly in the air. "How could anyone imagine a crippled viking? Especially a handsome one." Ivar shook his head in disbelief. "You couldn't possibly come up with something like me."_ _ _ _

____The dark-haired girl was examining her fingers with a crooked smile. "I guess so." She blinked a couple times before giving in to her smile. "Also..."_ _ _ _

____"Yes?" Ivar hurried._ _ _ _

____"I really like the way you move." Saga voice was quiet and it cracked in the end of her sentence. "It reminds me of the stories that my mother told me... stories about Jörmungandr."_ _ _ _

____Ivar leaned forward, his eyebrows almost touching the flames. He had also heard stories of this creature. Floki used to tell him about Thor's great adventures and how he had encountered the gigantic monster. "So I look like a huge serpent, is that it?" Ivar teased once again._ _ _ _

____"I'm trying to tell you that you remind me of the creature of which venom killed Thor himself and you ask me if you look like a snake?" Saga snapped._ _ _ _

____Ivar just shrugged and flashed her an apologetic grin. "Well? Do I?"_ _ _ _

____"No, just forget it." Saga sighed and grabbed a wooden stick from the pile of firewood. Ivar poked the fire with a stick, which caused the firecrackers to fly towards Saga._ _ _ _

____"I won't", he cooed smugly. "I will always remember it, when I'm crawling through the crowdsssss", he said, trying to copy the sound of a snake. He succeeded in making the girl in front of him laugh. Of course he knew what Saga had really meant with her comparison to the huge monster in the tales. She had told him that she saw danger when she looked at him crawl. She saw a venomous creature with ability to kill anyone. Even the son of Odin. And for Ivar, there was no greater compliment. "Do you want me to tell you what I like about you?"_ _ _ _

____Saga tried to hide her smile with terrible results. Ivar knew the answer already, but he wanted to see the look on her face when he asked. "Sure. Tell me."_ _ _ _

____Ivar took a deep breath as he poked the fire with a stick. "Well", he started teasingly. He could see the anticipation in Saga's dark eyes. It was terribly obvious. "I like your eyes too. Do you know why?"_ _ _ _

____Saga just raised her brows._ _ _ _

____Ivar continued. "They are the same color as the stream in the woods. The one where you wash clothes."_ _ _ _

____His words touched her deep, he could see it in her eyes. In the darkness he could see the glitter in her eyes even better. Her neck was long and majestic, perfectly smooth and fair, with a few tiny birthmarks dancing on her sinews. Ivar's fingers caressed the wooden stick as if it had been her neck. "I used to go there by myself before I met you. After my mother died. It was my... safe place", he contemplated out loud. Ivar glanced at Saga, checking if she was still listening. The girl's gaze was strictly locked at the fire. He cleared his throat and gathered his courage. "But now... I think you are my safe place, Saga. That is why I like you."_ _ _ _

____Saga chuckled, lacking the skill of accepting compliments. "So you like me just because my eyes remind you of some puddle in the forest? That is just-"_ _ _ _

____"-flattering? Isn't it?" Ivar laughed, playing along. He threw one more log into the pit. "Now will you come here, silly priest's daughter. I'm tired of looking at you from this far", he whined and patted his lap gently._ _ _ _

____Saga stood up from her stool, pushing it back before taking a step towards the boy on the ground. Ivar leaned back as she stepped over his useless pair of legs. Saga lowered herself to sit on his lap, facing his burning gaze. Ivar couldn't get a word out of his mouth. It was like his tongue was temporarily paralyzed, at least it felt like it. He could only watch and thank the Gods in his head for bringing such a marvelous creature to him. Saga wrapped her arms around Ivar's neck, slipping the tips of her thumbs under the neck of his shirt._ _ _ _

____"My flaming man", she whispered, drawing circles on the back of his neck. "No man has ever just talked with me like this. Everyone just wants..." She demonstrated her point with a movement of her hips, which caused an aggressive burn travel through Ivar's spine._ _ _ _

____"Maybe they did not see the beauty of your mind", he suggested, still taken aback of her sudden movement._ _ _ _

____"Mm", Saga hummed and leaned even closer to the boy beneath him. "Ivar."_ _ _ _

____Ivar let out an asking hum. He was tired. He wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep, skin against Saga's skin, while the fire would guard their sleep and the wind would sing a sweet lullaby. He wanted to look at Saga's eyes as he would float into the unknown._ _ _ _

____"Let us go to bed."_ _ _ _

____It didn't take long until they were both under the furs, both almost completely bare next to each other. Ivar turned to face Saga's knackered figure. She had already closed her eyes and let the exhaustion take the better of her. Her legs were tangled with Ivar's. Her fingers were intertwined with Ivar's. He forehead rested now against Ivar's. They leaned into each other, like two falling trees that desperately wanted to stay up in a storm. As the night grew darker and the world flew further, they dragged themselves closer to each other and sank their dirty nails in each other's skins. It was peaceful. A little cold. And dark._ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So, I made a moodboard to this story, but don't know where to share it? So for now it's just for my own inspiration.. How did you like the chapter? I know these are quite short, but I personally prefer posting more often and shorter chapters, than posting a long one like once in a week. But that's just my preference. Of course, if you'd like to read longer chapters and not that often, let me know and I'll look at it:)


	7. Support goes both ways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivar and Saga wake up together and have a little chat with one of the brothers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Here's a perky lil' chapter for you :) Thank you for all the support! It means alot:)

Ivar woke up to a gentle touch on his chest. It wasn't enough to get him to open his eyes, but it was enough to bring him to a conscious state of mind. He was aware of the body next to him. And he was aware of who it belonged to. He let out a peaceful moan and turned towards the heat that called his name behind his eyelids. A warm finger traveled on his collarbones, leaving a tingling sensation behind it. It wondered on his structures, turning at the edges of his bones and muscles. Ivar took a deep breath and leaned into the touch. His chest bumped into a warm hand, that started to caress him in a way he had never thought a woman would touch him. A satisfied hum escaped his mouth. Then he felt a pair of smooth lips on his cheek.

Saga knew exactly where Ivar's infractions were, and she knew exactly how to patch them up. The dark-haired boy moved closer to the body next to him, and turned his head to meet the smooth lips of hers. This time it didn't light a flame inside him, but something else wriggled under his skin. A serenity, that he had never felt before, took over his mind and soul. His kisses were slow and needy, but so passionate he didn't want to come up for air. His hand rested on her thigh, pulling her so close that he could almost feel her heartbeat against his. He kissed the corner of her mouth softly, then the curve of her upper lip. He tasted her tongue and inhaled her scent, deep, so that his lungs were about to burst. Then he opened his eyes.

”Good morning”, he croaked, stretching against Saga's figure, so that the space between them disappeared entirely. A long yawn escaped his lips, making the body against him tremble from laughter.

”Morning”, Saga replied with a wide, content smile. She rested her chin on Ivar's chest and looked straight into his eyes, not blinking once. She looked like she had been awake for a while.

”Are you warm?” Ivar asked, strengthening his grip around her. He felt a shiver run down his spine. It was a nippy morning, and since the fire had died during the night, the air had started to cool down.

”Yes.” Saga placed a single kiss on his skin, where her head rested. ”You are warm.”

”Am I?” He felt warm under the furs, but his bare chest was starting to get cold.

”Mhm.” Saga placed her ear against his chest, listening to the steady heartbeats. Her fingers ran up to his hair and started to twist them into tiny braids. She breathed against Ivar's chest, causing the smooth skin turn to goosebumps. ”One of your brothers peeked inside a while ago.” Her voice was calm but Ivar could sense the worry in her words. She was worried that her husband would find out. _As he would, eventually _, Ivar thought. Obviously. If they were going to be together, that would be one of the unfortunate things she would have to accept and get over with.__

__”He just smiled at me and closed the door.”_ _

__Ivar couldn't help but to chuckle at the image in his head. It must have been Ubbe. Or Hvitserk. Smiling wasn't typical to Sigurd. Sincere smiling that is. She would've said ”smirked” instead of ”smiled” if it had been Sigurd. Or Hvitserk. _It must have been Ubbe _, Ivar contemplated in his head.___ _

____”Why didn't you wake me?” he asked, grinning silently to the thought of Ubbe storming to his lodge, just to find him in bed with a gorgeous woman._ _ _ _

____Saga huffed against his skin. ”You looked tired.”_ _ _ _

____”Of course I looked tired, I was sleeping”, Ivar teased. ”You should have woken me.”_ _ _ _

____”Well”, Saga whispered. ”I did. Eventually...”_ _ _ _

____Ivar rolled his eyes. ”Do you prefer me sleeping then? Am I much nicer when I'm unconscious?”_ _ _ _

____Saga pulled his hair, making Ivar yelp out loud. He felt a tickling breath on his chest. ”Stop that”, Saga chuckled._ _ _ _

____”Stop what?” Ivar asked, trying to sound innocent. He couldn't get enough when it came to teasing her. It had grown to be his favourite hobby. ”You could just hit me with a log, you know, if you cannot stand my remarks.”_ _ _ _

____”Maybe I will”, Saga responded. She lifted her head to look at the crippled boy beneath him. ”Beware, Ivar the Boneless. Soon enough you will find yourself unconscious on the floor.”_ _ _ _

____”If you will be there lying next to me, I wouldn't mind”, Ivar said smirking. He earned another pull of his hair._ _ _ _

____”I can't believe you are a son of the great Ragnar Lothbrok”, Saga huffed._ _ _ _

____”Oh you would if you knew my father”, Ivar snorted back. ”He was the greatest joker of all time.”_ _ _ _

____Suddenly the door cracked open. Saga immediately withdrew her hands from Ivar's hair, and pulled the furs closer to her chin. Ivar just chuckled and turned to look at his grinning brother at the door._ _ _ _

____”Come in brother!” He waved his hand to welcome the blue-eyed man inside. Ubbe flashed him a wide grin and walked in, closing the door behind him. A cold breath of fresh air crept under the furs, making both Saga and Ivar shiver._ _ _ _

____Ubbe took a seat by the pit and began to start a fire. ”The morning frost is early this year”, he said and glanced at Ivar. Then his eyes settled on Saga. ”Last night was nippy.”_ _ _ _

____To Ivar, last night had been the hottest night of his life so far. ”Indeed it was.”_ _ _ _

____Ubbe shot a meaningful glance at Ivar. A grin took over his face. Saga pinched Ivar under the covers._ _ _ _

____”So who is this?” Ubbe's voice was filled with curiosity and admiration. Ivar opened his mouth to speak, assuming that Saga would be too shy to speak for herself, but he was cut off. Saga had sat up and thrown the fur around her shoulders to hide from the cold. Her voice was still husky from sleep, when she spoke._ _ _ _

____”My name is Saga Uvesdotter. I came here from Uppsala.”_ _ _ _

____Ivar turned to look at her with raised eyebrows. The girl from last night, who had stood with her chin against her chest, was gone. This Saga was the same he had met at the priest's grave. His hand traveled to her thigh, making the girl jump slightly._ _ _ _

____Ubbe's smile was warm and welcoming, as he nodded to the girl Ivar couldn't get his eyes off of. ”I am Ubbe. Ivar's older brother.”_ _ _ _

____Saga nodded, removing Ivar's hand from her thigh. ”It's an honor to meet you.”_ _ _ _

____Ivar snorted. She hadn't said such words to him when they had first met. She wouldn't even tell her name to him at first. But then again, she hadn't told her true name to Ubbe. It meant that she had trusted him right away, when they had first met. It made him feel strange. Why had she trusted him more than Ubbe, knowing that he was the cruel cripple out of the two? Had she seen under his skin the second she had laid eyes on him? ”So! Is there a meaning to this sudden visit of yours, brother?” Ivar asked, raising his voice along with his eyebrows. ”Are you here to talk about the morning frost?”_ _ _ _

____Ubbe grabbed a horn from the wooden table close to the wall and poured some ale in it. The ale had been standing on the table for days, and Ivar could see it's flavor from Ubbe's face. He chuckled at his brother's disgust._ _ _ _

____”UGH! Are you breeding maggots in there!” Ubbe yelled, throwing the liquid in the pit. He brushed his tongue against the sleeve of his tunic and let out disgusted groans. ”No, I'm not here to talk about the morning frost. I came here to ask you if you wanted to join us for a feast.” Ubbe's eyes traveled back to Saga. ”But it looks like you are occupied.”_ _ _ _

____Ivar wrapped his fingers around Saga's chin and turned her head so he could trap her in his gaze. He raised his brows, asking her if she wanted to go, without using any actual words. The girl bit her lip, not knowing what to do._ _ _ _

____”Do you want to go?” Ivar tried, this time asking her properly. Saga looked at Ubbe from the corner of her eye. Ivar got the message. She was afraid of getting caught. He smiled protectively. ”It will be just us and my brothers.” Then he turned to look at Ubbe. ”Right?”_ _ _ _

____Ubbe nodded, still trying to wipe the awful taste to his sleeve. ”That is why I came here to ask you. Lagertha has ordered everyone to help her with the reconstruction. The Great Hall is empty.”_ _ _ _

____Ivar felt a twist in his stomach after hearing the name of the woman he despised. Saga seemed to notice it. She moved her hand on his stomach, trying to calm down his breathing. It worked faster than she had expected._ _ _ _

____”We will come”, Saga informed, flashing an energetic smile to Ubbe. ”But I need some clothes to wear.”_ _ _ _

____”I will tell Margrethe to-”_ _ _ _

____"-NO”, Ivar cut Ubbe off, shooting a death glare at his direction. ”Tell a slave to bring her something to wear.” Ivar didn't want that woman near Saga. He didn't want Margrethe to say a single word to her. He was sick of her, and couldn't come to understand what Ubbe saw in her. She was nothing but a useless trollop who walked from bed to bed, sharing other people's secrets. Ubbe looked at Ivar, his face turning into a frown. He didn't like the way Ivar treated Margrethe, but couldn't do anything about it. He couldn't let the woman define his relationship with his brother. Ubbe nodded slightly and stood up from his stool._ _ _ _

____"Any color preferences?" he asked. The familiar smirk appeared back on his face._ _ _ _

____Saga shook her head firmly._ _ _ _

____"Red", Ivar said with a low voice, trying to sound intimidating. Ubbe watched as Saga rolled her eyes to the crippled boy. He had never seen anyone act in such way with Ivar. They had to have something serious going on between them. That was for sure. Even the way the girl looked at Ivar, made Ubbe feel proud of his brother. He had never thought Ivar would actually find someone who would sincerely care for him. Ubbe's observant eyes noticed Saga's hand on Ivar's stomach. The sight made him feel warm inside. Ivar had finally found a woman. And he knew she would make him better._ _ _ _

____"Red it is!" Ubbe exclaimed, heading towards the door. "I will let the others know you are coming."____

_____ _

___"It's too tight! Ivar stop that!" Saga yelled and slapped off the hand that was hovering on her butt. She earned a judgmental glare from Ivar._ _ _

_____ _

___"Fine. Take it off then, I will tell the others that you weren't pleased with the dress and do not wish to eat with us", he spoke, spitting the words out like they were pure venom. What he had learned about Saga that morning, was that she was extremely critical towards her bare body. She wouldn't get up from the bed without the furs around her, neither would she undress unless Ivar turned to look elsewhere. Her lack of confidence was starting to get on his nerves._ _ _

_____ _

___Saga stared at Ivar. Her whole being radiated defiance. "No", she exclaimed._ _ _

_____ _

___"Then wear the dress!" Ivar snarled. He grabbed her wrist and spun her around, so that she was standing in between his legs. His other hand slithered around her waist, pulling her closer. "I don't understand... can't you see how breathtakingly gorgeous you are?" Ivar's voice was weak and desperate. He traveled his hands on her body, admiring every inch he saw. "How can you not see it..."_ _ _

_____ _

___Saga swallowed the lump in her throat and sunk her fingers in Ivar's thick hair. Ivar let his forehead rest against her stomach._ _ _

_____ _

___"I wish I could show you... how I see you", he breathed. "You would carry yourself with pride."_ _ _

_____ _

___"Oh Ivar..." Saga sighed and placed a longing kiss on the boy's head. The tone of her voice started a new fire in Ivar's guts. He pressed his lips together and tried to control the flames._ _ _

_____ _

___He raised his gaze and looked at Saga. She looked weary and uncomfortable. Ivar had to do something about it. He took a better grip of her waist and pulled her down on the bed next to him._ _ _

_____ _

___A sudden chuckle escaped her lips. "Ivar!"_ _ _

_____ _

___"I can't stand a self-loathing woman in my house", he growled and crawled on top of her, pressing her hands above her head. The fact that Saga couldn't really take Ivar's actions seriously, lightened the atmosphere, and made the whole act look like wrestling. But Ivar wanted to prove a point. Desperately. He smashed his lips against hers as he tried to make her believe him through his actions. At first Saga seemed sincerely taken aback, but after feeling Ivar's warm tongue between her lips, she melted into his touch. They became a big mess of moans and small yelps here and there. Saga wrapped her legs around Ivar's hips and nibbled his lips. The sounds she let out of her mouth, made Ivar extremely aroused. He couldn't stop. He didn't want to stop. And neither did she. But they had to get going, and both of them knew it._ _ _

_____ _

___"Alright..." Saga groaned and pushed Ivar's face away. He tried to capture her lips again, but Saga kept her distance. "We have to go, Ivar."_ _ _

_____ _

___Ivar let out an angry groan, giving one more go at trying to close the gap between them. But the girl was - indeed - stronger than she looked. He sighed, admitting his defeat. "Fine."_ _ _

_____ _

___Saga crawled up from the bed and straightened her dress. Ivar looked at her, raising a brow. He was eager to know if his attempt at trying to build her self-esteem had succeeded. From what he could see, she didn't seem weary or uncomfortable anymore. Her cheeks were red and shimmery and her eyes were wide and dark, just as he liked them. So he _had _succeeded.___ _ _

_______ _ _ _

_____"Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay here and play with _me _?" Ivar asked seductively. He earned a stern look from Saga. Ivar rolled his eyes. "Your loss."___ _ _ _ _

_________ _ _ _ _ _

_______"Let's go before they think we have turned down their invitation", Saga rushed._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________ _ _ _ _ _

_______Ivar groaned in despair. Oh how he would have wanted to stay in with her, so that they could continue where they had stopped. "You are just eager to meet my brothers..."_ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________ _ _ _ _ _

_______Saga took a deep breath and glared at Ivar from the corner of her eyes. "Stop that! You wanted us to go, let's go!"_ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________ _ _ _ _ _

_______"I don't want to go anymore", Ivar whined. He tried to grab Saga's hand, but the girl was faster. She crossed her arms on her chest and walked closer to the door. Ivar rolled his eyes again. He closed his eyes in defeat and fell on his back on the bed. Then he heard a giggle from the door, and couldn't stop himself from smiling. "We'll go. But I need a rerun of _that _\- what just happened - after the feast."___ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


	8. Breakfast at Great Hall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning feast; Björn has found out something crucial about Saga's relationship with her husband.

Eventually, Ivar felt pretty content about their decision to join his brothers for a feast in the great hall. Looking at Saga made him feel quite proud of himself; he felt like coming back home from a raid, carrying a chest full of gold, covered in riches. There was no other way to explain it. Saga was his treasure that he was about to show to his brothers.  
Saga glanced over her shoulder to see the smug grin on Ivar's face. She could feel the tension building up inside her, as if she was waiting for something bad to happen. And she was right, something bad was indeed going to happen, eventually. Saga squeezed her hands into fists and hoped from the bottom of her heart that things would gently fall on their places.  
"What if he comes to the great hall?"  
Ivar stopped crawling and furrowed his brows. Saga was still stressed about her husband walking in on them. That made Ivar slightly angry. Why would she feel stressed about something that was, eventually, inevitable? Was she not going to stay with him? Did she plan to go back to her husband?  
"I will make sure he won't."

When they finally got to the great hall, it started snowing. The flakes were light and fell down slowly all the way to the ground and on the couple standing by the big wooden doors. The sun was desperately trying to peek out between the white layer of clouds. Ivar pulled himself up, hanging from the door handles. He turned to look at Saga, who held her chest while taking in deep breaths.

"You are beautiful." Ivar breathed into the nippy air, causing a little air cloud flow out between his parted lips, before pushing the doors in. The timing was exactly right, because when everyone turned to look at the dashing pair, Saga's lips were curved into a shy adorable smile. Ivar's smirk grew immediately wider when he noticed Hvitserk's and Sigurd's impressed expressions. Ubbe seemed beyond proud of his brother, which made Ivar feel weirdly good.

"Ivarr!" Ubbe growled and stood up from his chair. Margrethe had to hold onto his chair to keep it on it's place. Ivar's legs started shaking when the pain grew unbearable. He lowered himself onto the ground and accepted the fact that he could not stand longer than a few minutes before his bones started aching. He glanced over his shoulder to check that his partner was following him inside the hall. Ivar found himself trapped in her glare. She seemed slightly concerned. Maybe because of his trembling body that screamed "I'm in pain!". Ivar forced on a grin (which was extremely casual for him) and nodded towards the table. Saga took a step closer and filled the gap between them.

"Come sit here", Ubbe proposed and pulled out a big wooden bench. "It's reserved for you two."

"Thank you, Ubbe", Saga said quietly and her chin was falling against her chest once again. Ivar noticed that and quickly slipped his fingers under her chin to turn her head up, revealing her smooth neck. For the boy's surprise, Saga slapped his hand away and held her chin high without his help. Ivar just rolled his eyes and bettered his position on the bench.

"This is Saga Uvesdottir", Ubbe exclaimed with a wide smile. The room fell quiet as everyone turned their heads to look at the stranger that had captured Ivar's attention. Hvitserk looked at Saga like she was some new interesting toy to play with. And that Ivar didn't like. He lowered his chin slowly and glared his brother from behind his furrowed brows. That was enough to make Hvitserk turn his head with a tiny shake.

"She is with me." Ivar's words were meant for every male in the room. He made sure that everyone knew the woman beside her was taken and off the market. He slid his hand on her thigh and gave it a small squeeze. He could see from the corner of his eye, that Saga's face lit up. Everyone around them started to talk again, acknowledging the fresh couple sitting in the middle of the room. Ivar moved subconsciously closer to Saga, which made the girl wriggle in her skin. She had to fight against the urge to show her affections right there under everyone's eyes. It wasn't like she was afraid to do it, but she didn't want to take the risk if someone she knew had seen. She still wanted to have a talk with her husband in private, without everyone knowing about her situation already beforehand. She decided to just flash the boy next to him a white toothed smile.

Ubbe watched Ivar and the girl beside him with mixed feelings. He wasn't sure how Ivar acted around Saga, but she definitely didn't seem scared of him at all. She was so fond of him that she didn't seem to care about his useless feet or all the wicked things Ivar had done in his past. She clearly liked him the way he was, not just because he was a son of Ragnar. And that more than anything strengthened the feeling, that this was actually going to work for his brother and everyone else involved. This girl could make Ivar good.

"Saga", Margrethe sang from the end of the table. Ivar's eyes locked devilishly to the blonde girl's face. If looks could really kill, Margrethe would've been long gone. Her chin dropped against her chest as if Ivar's gaze had whipped her in the back of her head. Saga frowned and moved an inch further from Ivar, to send the boy a message that she didn't like when he glared other girls like that. She didn't like it because she knew how it felt.

"Yes?" She looked at the blonde girl who seemed very frightened of Ivar.

Margrethe looked at Saga with fear in her eyes. Then her face melted when she was met with a warm smile. Ivar was almost trembling next to her. He had removed his palm from her thigh and was now squeezing his hands into fists.

The blonde girl opened her mouth and Ivar smashed his fist into the table.

Ubbe gave his wife a warning glance before he decided to cut the beef. He hated that his brother hated his wife, but then again he had a reason to. She had been the one to spread the rumor about him not being able to satisfy a woman. And that would've been a tough spot for any man.

"Ivar can I talk to you, alone?"

Ivar bit his lip and glanced at Saga. He clearly didn't want to leave her with Margrethe. And even Ubbe knew it wouldn't be a good idea to put them together. After all, there were many things Saga didn't have to know about Ivar, which Margrethe knew and would've told Saga, without a doubt.

"She can go eat with Björn", Ubbe proposed, raising a brow. Ivar didn't seem happy at all. He grunted and took a horn, filled it with ale and downed it at one go.

"Fine", he mumbled after wiping his mouth. "Where shall we go then?"

When Ivar and Ubbe were gone, Saga stood up from the wooden bench and headed towards the corner of the room, where Ubbe had pointed after saying the man's name. At first she was scared; the man was tall and muscular like a bear, and was armed from head to toes. But after seeing the man's face, she wasn't so scared anymore. This Björn, had a friendly looking face and a welcoming smile on his lips. His eyes however were slightly squinted, examining every move she made.

Saga sat down on the other side of the table and tried to seem calm. She wasn't scared anymore, but the dress she was wearing made her extremely uneasy. When Ivar wasn't giving her the extra attention she needed to boost her confidence, she regretted leaving Ivar's lodge in the first place. She kept her hand in her lap and stared at the food before her.

"So, you fancy my brother?" Björn's voice was husky but very friendly. The way his tone went up in the end of the sentence made him seem very sympathetic and altogether nice. Saga grabbed a horn from the table and Björn offered to pour her some ale.

"Yes", Saga said quietly and took a sip from the horn. "I do like him."

"Even when he's like this?" Björn's face was genuinely curious. Saga tilted her head and looked at the door where Ivar and his brother had vanished. She wondered what was behind Ivar's tragic behavior towards the blonde girl. There had to be something else to it, he didn't seem like a guy who would hate someone for no reason. The reason however could be anything from a wrong word to a slightly wrong look. He was sensitive to other people's opinions, whether they were righteous or not.

No matter what the reason was, at that moment she did like him, in spite of how he had acted before. She wanted him to come back and sit beside her, to make her feel better. He made her better.

"Yes. Everyone has imperfections and flaws."

Björn seemed surprised about her answer. He nodded thoughtfully and stuffed a piece of meat in his mouth. "I suppose you are right."

Saga smiled sheepishly and took a bite of her loaf of bread. Her eyes slowly drifted to look at the blond girl sitting next to Hvitserk. She was very beautiful, and seemed like a genuine friendly person, but there was something about her that made Saga wonder if she really was as innocent as she looked like. The way she smiled at Ivar's other brother, Hvitserk, was definitely flirtatious. So she fancied Hvitserk (and obviously Ubbe), but Ivar she feared? Had Ivar turned her down or something?

"She's Margrethe", Björn blurted out, wiggling his eyebrows. "Just incase you were wondering."

"I was actually", Saga admitted, turning back to her food. "What happened between them?"

Björn shrugged and rolled his eyes. "Who knows. I am not deeply interested in my brother's sex life but I'm guessing it has something to do with that."

Saga bit her lip. She shouldn't have come. She knew she had taken a huge risk, falling for Ivar the Boneless, but she couldn't turn back now. She was already in the lion's den, and she had already fallen for him. Her arms pressed tightly against her sides, as she started nibbling at her bread.

Björn chuckled and pushed a tray of meat closer to Saga. "Eat. I hunted it myself."

"I'm not that hungry."

Björn huffed through his nose and continued gobbling down his food. "Does Ivar know that you are married?"

Saga froze. Björn looked up at her and raised his eyebrows. He didn't seem so friendly anymore. "I know your husband, he is a filthy bastard and a woman beater." There was no pity in Björn's words. His glare was cold and distant. "I was building the fences couple days ago and I saw you with him. Why do you stay with him, hm?"

Saga's voice had disappeared. She was more afraid of Björn than she had ever been of Ivar, and he was supposed to be the ruthless one.

"You should value yourself woman. You are not an object of his. Tell Ivar about him and he will get what he deserves", Björn said and slowly stood up, throwing a piece of bone on the table. He was even taller than he looked sitting down. "Ivar can't handle any more loss. He is on the edge of becoming a monster of a man." With that said, Björn shot her a final glance and walked away, straight out of the huge wooden doors.

Saga stared after him for a while, before noticing Margrethe's worried face from the other table.

"Are you alright, Saga?" she asked softly, followed by a gentle smile. Even Hvitserk looked suspicious. Saga smiled back at them and nodded. "I'm alright."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! It's been a long time since I've updated this, but here's a short chapter for anyone who's reading it :) I'm super excited about the new season and what's ahead for all our amazing new and old characters!


	9. Learning patience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ubbe is eager to find out more about Saga and Ivar learns to control his emotions.

Ivar followed Ubbe to the King’s chambers. Last time he remembered being there was when he had been a little boy with his very own little cart, that his brothers pushed around like he'd been their pet. Like he'd been somehow unable to think, not just move. Now however, the room seemed to have lost it's meaning. Now it was just a deserted place filled with gloom. Both of his parents were dead and a vicious scent lingered in the air, that had once smelled like his mother’s concoctions. Ivar stopped at the door and looked at his brother threateningly. ”What do you want to talk about, hm?”

Ubbe turned around and scratched the back of his head. He looked like he had no idea why he had summoned Ivar to the King’s chambers with him, his big blue eyes bright and completely clueless. ”I wanted to ask you something.”

Ivar shrugged his steady shoulders and spread his arms. ”Go on then.”

The muffled sounds of chatter could be heard from the room they had just exited. The older brother sighed, took a step closer to the wall and started playing with a tapestry Lagertha must've had hung there. ”Are you and that girl sincerely together?” Ubbe took a quick glance at Ivar and, by accident, managed to pull the tapestry down. He clumsily kicked the cloth towards the fire pit.

To Ivar it sounded like Ubbe was doubting Saga’s feelings for him. He completely ignored his brother's hassle with the tapestry and glared at him warningly. The familiar anger made his fingers squeeze into fists. ”As sincerely as possible”, Ivar snarled. ”Can you believe it, she actually cares for me!” He exclaimed bitterly.

Ubbe huffed and blinked dramatically. ”You know what I mean.” The tapestry caught fire and Ubbe grimaced slightly.

”No I do not”, Ivar talked back. ”Please care to elaborate?”

The fire shed light on both of the men's faces. Ubbe locked his blue eyes with his younger brother and gritted his teeth. ”I know how it went down between you and Margrethe. And you know I don’t like it when-”

”-when I force women into bed with me, is that it?” Ivar grew even more furious. He could feel his angry heart thumping wildly in his chest.

”-When you feel like you have been discriminated! Left out!” Ubbe grunted over Ivar. ”You are my brother, Ivar.”

Ivar tilted his head and clenched his jaw. ”Are you trying to tell me that I have received your approval? If so, I don’t need one.”

Ubbe chuckled. ”I know.” He looked around and leaned back. ”I’m just curious. And I wanted to take you out here, to cool down.”

Ivar sighed and rolled his eyes.

”You two seem truly happy together. I wish that it would stay that way”, Ubbe said, launching away from the wall. ”I guess I just wanted to say that.”

”You are an idiot”, Ivar murmured and turned around to go back to the great hall, making the old wooden floor creaked underneath him.

Ubbe chuckled again and took a long leap over Ivar’s legs. He grabbed his brother’s shoulder tightly and made him look at him. His voice was serious when he talked. ”Do not scare her away, Ivar.”

Ivar shot a death glare at Ubbe and shoved him away from him. ”Do not... tell me what to do.”

 

When Ivar dragged himself back into the dining hall, he immediately noticed that something had happened to Saga. She was crouching on her chair, chin dropped down to her chest and arms clenched against her sides. Only seeing her so vulnerable and unhappy, started a strange, unpleasant bubbling feeling inside Ivar's guts. It was like they had been linked to each other, that’s how deeply Ivar was feeling Saga’s uneasiness. He felt a weird feeling of empathy rush through his body, and that rush made him crawl furiously to Saga’s side. His hand hurried to touch her worried face. ”What happened?” Ivar was surprised of the tone of his own voice. It sounded too soft, too caring.

The distressed girl just shook her head absently. She didn’t turn her head to look at Ivar, or open her mouth to speak. All she did was shake her head.

Ivar turned to Margrethe and Hvitserk. He only glanced at the snake-eyed nuisance in the corner. ”WHAT HAPPENED!” He yelled and crawled to the next table, drawing out his knife. ”WHERE IS BJÖRN?”

”Ivar…” Saga’s voice was barely a whisper, but it made Ivar turn around. He crawled back to her and lifted himself so that he was kneeling before her, with his hands on her lap. When she looked at him, he no longer wanted to smash things. He no longer wished for death to his brother Björn for leaving Saga like this. He just wanted her to speak more.

”I am just feeling overwhelmed”, Saga murmured and raised her hand to smooth the frown between Ivar’s eyebrows. ”Just… take me out of here.”

Ubbe followed the pair from a distance. He had also noticed (along with the others in the room) the effect that Saga had on Ivar. It was almost impossible to believe, even though it happened right there before his very own eyes. This girl was connected to Ivar, on a level that he or anyone else in that room could never be. 

When Ivar and Saga left the Great hall, Ubbe let out a long sigh and leaned back on his chair. He wanted to talk to Björn, urgently. Saga had indeed seemed distressed about something. He knew Björn had no intentions of angering Ivar, so he wouldn't have intimidated Saga on purpose. Or at least he thought he knew. Maybe Björn wanted Ivar upset for some reason? So that he would be weaker and easier to take down?

Except that it would've been a huge mistake for Björn, obviously. Ivar wasn't weaker when he was upset. He was even more dangerous. Björn had to be aware of it, otherwise he would've already done everything in his power to piss him off. And Björn had been very indifferent towards Ivar.

”He seems very fond of her”, Margrethe finally opened her mouth to speak. She had sat quietly the whole time Ivar had been present. Now that he was finally gone and out the door, she could feel at ease. Even her posture changed drastically, to the worse, in Ubbe's opinion. ”I didn’t know he was able to care for others than himself.”

”Ivar doesn’t care for himself”, Ubbe said calmly and poured himself a full cup of ale. ”I believe no one hates him more than he does.”

”I do”, Margrethe mumbled quietly. Her words earned a chuckle from Hvitserk, who had been sitting quietly, minding his own business. Ubbe however frowned and sunk deeper in his chair.

”Why did Björn leave the hall?” He asked raising a brow.

Both Hvitserk and Margrethe looked oblivious. They glanced at each other and ended up shrugging at the same time.

Ubbe nodded in his thoughts. He really needed to talk to Björn.

By the time Ivar and Saga had arrived home, Kattegat had turned completely white. The trees glittered in the dim sunlight that was poking through the cloudy sky and everything looked very still. Even the snowflakes fell down slowly, making the atmosphere calm and silent.

Saga dragged her feet forward when she followed Ivar inside his lodge. He had stopped asking her 'what's wrong' a while ago, after realizing that he couldn't get a proper answer out of her. The dark-haired boy collapsed next to the fire pit, on top of a moose skin. Without taking a look at Saga, he sighed and started making a fire.

Saga watched as Ivar managed to light up the room. The cold air that had once filled the room, started to warm up, thanks to Ivar. Saga sat on the bed and wrapped her arms around her legs to fight the cold. She knew what Ivar was waiting for, but she didn't know how to put her feelings into words. Her mind was filled with guilt, embarrassment and just bold confusion. Was she ready to turn her life around and abandon someone that she had lived with for years? There was no doubt what Ivar would have done to her husband if he only knew the truth about him. And there was no one else to blame for the truth but her. Saga looked at her own ragged fingertips - she was holding her husband's dear life on them.

"I have never felt this way about anyone else", Ivar suddenly spoke up, quickly glancing at Saga. His blue eyes were wide and passionate, and it looked like he was forcing the words out of his mouth. "I just wish you would tell me what is wrong... I can't even think about anything else." Ivar's words were so bold and so honest, that Saga could feel the heat of her own tears burn her eyes. She hid her face to her knees and gritted her teeth.

"Life is not simple, for me", Saga mumbled quietly. She contemplated for a while before opening her mouth again. "I can't just... leave him..."

"But you must!" Ivar grunted and banged his fist into the ground. He clenched his jaw furiously. "Tell me what Björn said to you."

"He said noth-"

"STOP LYING TO ME!" Ivar growled again, raising his voice a little more. Saga was sinking deeper and deeper into the bed, hugging her feet more tightly. She could feel the familiar fear lurking up, twisting her stomach. This was too familiar to her, and she didn't want Ivar to act this way towards her. Not Ivar.

Ivar could feel Saga's fear and sadness and that alone was suffocating him. His words got stuck in his throat and the dark cloud of anger was slowly passing. He just stared at her and let time go by.

The couple was surrounded by silence and a cold draught, that tickled the flames in the middle of the lodge and made them dance wildly. Ivar turned his gaze into the fire and gave Saga some more time.

Gave himself some more time.

Ubbe's words echoed loudly in his head, at the same time forcing him to be calm and making him hate Ubbe for being right. He couldn't scare Saga away. He wouldn't

When it started to dim outside, Ivar moved towards the bed and climbed on top of it, clasping his fingers with Saga's.

"Let me just warm you up. I am a flame, remember?" Ivar's voice was tired and it trembled in the end of his sentence. He made eye-contact with Saga and raised his brows. "D-do you remember?"

Saga nodded, giving him the slightest smile and squeezing his fingers. "My flaming man."

"Yours", Ivar repeated, pulling Saga closer to him, to his warmth. He breathed slowly and steadily, inhaling Saga's scent. He rubbed his chin against Saga's head and exhaled with a chuckle. "And you are mine, priest's daughter. Never forget that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't believe so many of you are still reading this! Just know that this is just the beginning (I'm intending to write Saga's and Alfred's encounter and much more, we'll see how far I have patience to go haha). Thanks for leaving kudos and encouraging comments, it always makes my day reading them! :)


	10. Woman Beater

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saga wants to take a new step with Ivar but Ivar has a burden he hasn't yet shared with Saga. Ubbe finally finds out the truth about Saga's "relationship" with her husband.

For another day in a row, Ubbe paced around his lodge, rubbing his itchy chin in deep thoughts. He hadn't seen Ivar nor his new beloved since the confusion at the Great Hall, which was fairly unusual, taken Ivar had been around every day to this particular day. In the morning Ubbe had taken a quite steamy bath with Margrethe, so now his limbs were all feeble and he felt overall faint. For that reason he had once again decided to stay in rather than join Lagertha's reconstruction lot.

Ubbe wanted to know the whole story behind Saga Uvesdotter. He genuinely believed (or wanted to believe) that she would end up being the one who made Ivar as great as he could be. He believed that Saga, that girl would change him and heal his mind from all the suffering he had had to endure. And for that plan to become reality, Ivar, as well as Saga, needed to be watched. Ubbe had already asked around about Saga, if she was someone to be trusted, someone who was real. All he had gotten so far were empty answers. No one knew her. She seemed to be as good as dead to the villagers.

The door suddenly slammed open and a cold brush of air filled the room. Ubbe shot his eyes towards the door and was greeted by a pair of cold blue eyes. Ubbe instantly flashed a warm smile. "Hi ya."

Margrethe suppressed her smile and rolled her eyes to the goofy Ragnar's son. "Won't you get tired of doing that?"

"Doing what?" Ubbe asked raising a brow. Once the door was closed, the air started to warm up again. Autumn was slowly turning into winter.

"Pacing back and forth, like a maniac." Margrethe took off her blue knitted coat and gently placed it on a stool by the door. She let her wheat-blonde hair free and ran her fingers through it. "You will become ill, go outside and get some fresh air."

"But you are my air", Ubbe cooed, sneaking behind Margrethe and placing a gentle kiss on her shoulder. That made the blue-eyed girl squirm in her skin. She turned around and smashed her lips on Ubbe's, wrapping her arms behind his neck.

Ubbe growled into the kiss, but slowly backed off of Margrethe. "Although you are right. I am feeling a little ill."

Margrethe stood back, her face quickly turning into a sulk. She looked over her shoulder, giving Ubbe the cold treatment. "Fine. No sex for you tonight then."

Ubbe chuckled. He raised his hand to cup Margrethe's face, swiping her upper lip with his thumb. "We will see about that."

The tiniest smile hovered on Margrethe's lips before she turned away and started to gather ingredients for dinner. Ubbe in the other hand picked up his wolf fur and threw it around his shoulders. He would finally go talk to Björn, if he managed to find him.

 

Saga had stayed with Ivar for a couple of days now, and no one had come to find her. Ivar was really starting to believe she was his, only his. He forgot about her husband and her past life. For a while there was just Saga the way she was now, no background, no future, just the moment that seemed like an eternity.

The night was starting to fall in Kattegat. It was dark once again, since the daylight only lasted for a couple of hours a day. Ivar was sitting on the floor, sharpening one of his favourite daggers. It had a wooden handle and a shining blade with runes on it, that the blacksmith had carved in the village. Even the crossguards had runes on them, the one above the handle saying "hermóðr". Ivar touched the blade with his fingertips, trying if it was sharp enough to cut his skin just like that. For his own surprise, the blade cut through his skin like it had been water.

"What are you doing?" Saga's voice sang from above. Ivar's mouth twitched of the idea of her being worried about him. Of the idea of someone caring about him.

"Oh, nothing", he chuckled, placing the dagger on the floor next to him. The blood was suddenly everywhere, and Ivar did nothing to suppress the bleeding. He raised his hand and watched as the red liquid flowed down his arm, over his veins and bruises.

"Ivar!" Saga half dropped down from the bed and kneeled next to Ivar, grasping his bloody arm. "Why did you do that!"

Ivar found it weird, how Saga could always appear so radiant before her, especially if he hadn't seen her in a while. Even if she was in the same room near him, when he didn't look at her, he missed her. Now that she was there in front of him again, he couldn't help but take his time, to study her every detail.

"You shouldn't just cut yourself like that, for fun", Saga said and squeezed Ivar's fingers to stop the bleeding.

Ivar shook his head. "I didn't cut myself on purpose! I tested if the dagger was sharp enough."

Saga turned to look at the bloody weapon on the floor. It seemed even more dangerous with blood on it. Her delicate fingers picked it up professionally and wiped the blood to the cloth of her dress. "It's a beautiful dagger."

Ivar didn't turn his gaze from Saga. "So beautiful."

"Where did you get it?" The brown-haired girl tucked her hair behind her ear, revealing more of her neck. Ivar's eyes traveled on her fair skin.

"Floki gave it to me."

Saga huffed and looked somewhere behind Ivar. "Floki?"

The memories of Floki rushed into Ivar's mind, filling him with some kind of yearning. "Floki is my..."

Saga waited for Ivar to continue, but when his eyes sunk and his shoulders dropped, she left the topic and placed a healing kiss on Ivar's hand. "Your shirt is stained." She tucked at the hem of his tunic and pulled it possessively. Ivar's eyes were glued onto Saga's, when she lifted his shirt and fully removed it, leaving the boy topless. Saga could feel the heat his bare chest was radiating, and wanted to get as close to it as it was humanly possible. Ivar was tense and ready to attack. He wasn't used to being patient, and Saga was definitely one big tease of a woman.

She traced her fingers along Ivar's chest, feeling the bumps of his translucent scars. "I have thought about it a lot." Saga's voice was quiet and unusually empty when she spoke. "About you. About why the gods have done this to you."

Ivar frowned and captured Saga's hand in his own. He was trying to keep his patience, but sometimes there were moments when he would partially become cold and distant again. And he knew it was because there was still a small gap between the two of them.

"I believe that, in order to achieve greatness, you must go through agony that is almost impossible to overcome. You have to evolve in a way that no other man has to. And these" Saga raised her other hand and touched Ivar's chest filled with scars "these are what will make you the greatest. Every mark on your body..." Saga slowly moved forward to straddle Ivar's legs. "... and every dysfunctional limb. Your weaknesses will become your advantages, and one day you will realize it."

Ivar let out a shaky breath, following with a low and needy grunt. He let go of Saga's hand only to cup Saga's face with both of his hands. This time his moves were careful and timid, the opposite of his usual short-tempered actions. Saga was completely still beneath his touch, hungry for the tender touch of Ivar's hands. Ivar caressed her brown locks, pushing them behind her ears so they weren't on his way when he slowly leaned forward and barely touched her lips with his own.

"Ivar..."

Ivar opened his eyes once he had realized that he had closed them, and looked straight into Saga's dark eyes. "Hm?"

Saga lowered her hands on Ivar's chest, sliding them down on his waist. She swallowed and took in a shaky breath. "Make love to me."

Suddenly Ivar could hear his own heartbeats banging in his ears. They were loud and clear, as were Saga's heartbeats. He could even see her pulse on her neck, as her heart started to race with his. Ivar had pushed the whole idea away before. Every time he wanted to do it, he was reminded of what had happened with Margrethe. He couldn't do the same to Saga. Or to himself. So as much as he wanted to, as much as he needed to take her, conquer her completely, he couldn't.

Ivar suppressed the pain this all was causing him, and leaned in to kiss Saga's forehead. Then he gently moved her off of his feet and crawled away from her.

 

What was he supposed to do? He couldn't do it, that was a fact. They had finally come to the point, where Ivar would have to tell her and she would have to make up her mind; rather to stay with an impotent cripple, or go live with her husband and have his children (which to Ivar, wasn't an actual option). Ivar drew out one of his daggers and threw it furiously towards a thick birch. It thumped against the wood and fell on the ground.

Ivar swallowed a lump in his throat. After Saga had climbed on the bed, under the furs, he couldn't stand to watch her anymore. He felt awful about being the reason why she was hurt. She must've thought that he didn't want her. And the hardest part was that he couldn't tell her that she was all he'd ever wanted and more. His heart was about to burst.

"Ivar? What are you doing out here?"

Ivar didn't bother to turn around. He stared at the dark forest and bit his lips. "Mourning."

Ubbe let out a gasp. "Did you- Did she-"

"No!" Ivar growled frustratedly. "She is sleeping."

"Where?"

Ivar frowned and turned to look at his worried brother. "What do you mean where? In my lodge of course!"

Ubbe's mouth was a strict line. To Ivar he was almost too easy to read. Something was definitely up. Ubbe looked at the direction of Ivar's lodge. The blue-eyed man seemed strangely alert.

"What are you doing out here?" Ivar asked, giving now all his attention to Ubbe. He tilted his head curiously. "Shouldn't you be entertaining that tramp of yours?"

Ubbe gritted his teeth but kept his cool. "I thought you should know something about Saga."

Ivar's eyes widened. Had Ubbe found out her secret, about her father?

Ubbe's face grew dead serious. "Have you yet seen her without any clothes on?"

"What?" The conversation had taken a turn Ivar had not been expecting. "No."

"Well, when you do, pay attention to her body. I bet she has more scars than you and I do altogether."

It took a while until Ivar realized what Ubbe was saying. She had more scars than Ubbe and he did altogether? She had scars on her body? Made by who?

"Her husband's name is Karli Leifsson, the Woman Beater as everyone calls him."

And suddenly everything made sense. Saga having ridiculously bad self-esteem, her not being able to undress if Ivar was watching... not to even mention how she would feel now that Ivar had straight up rejected her. All the wires in Ivar's head were snapping off one after the other. Why hadn't she told him? Why was she still protecting him? What was wrong with her? Why would she even-

Ivar squeezed his hands into fists. With his whole being trembling, and to his brother's surprise, he asked; "What should I do, Ubbe?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi ya! Happy New Year everyone, hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thank you for leaving kudos, it's lovely to see them coming every now and then :) If you have any preferred parts of the story, let me know what they are, it's motivating to read your comments!:)


	11. Choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivar confronts Saga about her husband. Things start to escalate.

Ivar's hands were aching as he dragged himself through the wet ground. And along with his aching palms, his heart was burning in his chest. He was still clueless of what he should do, even after asking Ubbe for advice - which was something he rarely did. Even Ubbe had been dumbfounded at his brother's sudden plead of help. But to Ivar all help was vitally important. He had never been in a similar situation, so he was as helpless as a baby without it's mother. At moments like these he would have gone to his mother for help, but now he had no one. There was no one to ask for advice. Asking help from Ubbe hadn't been the brightest idea, since after all, he knew very little of how women's minds worked. Ubbe had been as clueless as Ivar was.

"You should kill the man."

Ubbe's advice had been straightforward and plain, which was why Ivar didn't like it. He had thought about it a long time ago, when he had first found out about Saga's husband. But even now, it didn't feel like the right choice. There had to be some reason for her attachment to this man, and he was desperate to find out what it was. So he was going to face Saga and ask her, heart to heart.

He couldn't believe he hadn't read her correctly from the start. What if she didn't want to leave her husband at all?

What if she loved him?

When Ivar finally got to his lodge, he stayed put against the front door for a while. He wanted to be absolutely sure about what he was about to do.

He had no idea what the outcome could have been. What if she ran away to her husband?

What if she really went back to him and left him?

What if she left him.

Ivar slowly opened the door and crawled in, making no sounds but his own breathing. His clothes scraped the ground as he slithered through the door, into the silent room. Ivar stopped to listen if Saga had noticed his return, but all he could hear was her sleeping soundly.

Ivar lifted his body on the bed and settled there, next to Saga's sleeping figure. His eyes roamed on her body, thinking where all her scars were. Some of them must've been on her thighs and stomach, since she had kept them well hidden. Also he had never seen her bare chest or her back. Ivar raised his hand steadily and placed it on Saga's shoulder to test if she would wake up from his touch. The girl sighed deeply and moved an inch closer to Ivar's warm hand.

She was probably dreaming, Ivar thought to himself. He desperately wanted her to dream about him.

He traveled his hand to the neck of her underskirt and pulled the cloth down, just so he could peek at her bare back.

The fair skin was filled with petite white lines, going up and down, left to right. It almost looked like someone had tried to write on her skin, but failed and scratched all over it. To Ivar it was at the same time sad and sort of beautiful. He hated her husband, he loathed him - he wanted to pull his guts out and feed them to him as he felt him sink a knife in his heart, but at the same time he thought Saga was the most perfect creature he had ever seen. And he felt bad for thinking that way. And he wanted to see all of her.

Suddenly Saga turned around and hid her face against Ivar's arm.

Ivar looked at the ceiling and took a deep breath. "Saga."

The girl twitched and woke up. In a blink of an eye she was an arm length away from Ivar. Her dark, misty eyes looked a little puffed up - she must've been crying before she fell asleep. Maybe she cried herself to sleep, Ivar thought.

"I'm sorry", Saga said immediately, and let her chin sink to her chest.

Ivar stared at her, clueless of how to start. "About what?"

Saga looked like she didn't even know why she was sorry. "About everything."

Ivar huffed and looked over his shoulder. "That is such an idiot thing to say."

"What do you want me to say then?" Saga almost sobbed. She wasn't looking at Ivar anymore. Her arms were hugging her chest, as if that would keep her lungs together.

For a moment Ivar waited. He was eager to know if she would come clean herself, if she'd confess that she wanted to go back to her husband. Husband who mentally and physically hurt her. But when Saga stayed quiet and the atmosphere was starting to get too heavy, he looked at Saga and tilted his head.

"How long were you going to act like he is just a simple man who is good to you, hm?" And when he looked at Saga, he couldn't hide the deep hatred that he had towards the man. Who would have believed, that Ivar the Boneless had just spared a life? A life that would not have deserved to be saved.

Saga looked back at him and for a second, she didn't look afraid. She didn't look ashamed nor worried. She was shocked that Ivar had come back to her after getting this knowledge. He had come back to talk it out, rather than just gone and done what he normally would've done - killed him in cold blood.

"Not long", Saga whispered.

"Why would you be with a man that beats you - that slashes your back and hurts you!" Ivar raised his voice, unable to understand the woman in front of him. "Why would you let him control you and use you- you are not a toy, you are not a piece of meat you are a woman, a gorgeous woman!" Ivar almost screamed the last words to her face. Then he backed off and stared at her, face blank.

Saga opened her mouth but only sobs came out. "Y-you wouldn't understand, you don't know what it's like-"

"You are right! I don't know what it is like, but do you know what I know? I know that if you wanted, you could just walk out- carry on with your life and forget him! I don't understand you!"

"No you don't because you are a SON OF RAGNAR LOTHBROK, you are DESTINED for greatness! You are known everywhere, everyone in Uppsala knew you, people talk about you, people who you don't even know, people that do not exist to you! People like me! I am known by NO ONE. I believed that I would stay that way until I died, leaving behind a few sons and daughters, no legacy, no name to be told around like you do - did since you were born! This man who, yes, throws me around and slashes me, calls me names and forces me to bed with him, he gave me a house, a meaning, a duty to be fulfilled. I never knew about any better, so I accepted him, with his flaws. I thought he was the best I could ever have! We all sometimes do bad things to each other, don't we? Don't you?"

Ivar couldn't even hear Saga's last few words. His ears had started to ring and his eyes hurt just looking at her. "Yes, you are right."

Saga looked at Ivar, her eyes filled with tears. She frowned and leaned forward. "What..."

Ivar leaned back and fully turned away from Saga. "He is the best you will ever have. Why would someone want a woman whose will and soul has been taken. He already has you, so tight around his fingers."

And at the same time, Ivar dropped down on the floor and Saga let out heart breaking cry. "GET OUT!"

Without any idea of his actions, Ivar grabbed the bloody dagger from the ground and threw it. Then he furiously crawled out without looking behind.

He never missed.

He almost never missed.

He had aimed towards Saga's head.

And this time he hoped from the bottom of his heart, that he had missed.

Ivar waited outside the lodge for a little while. He waited and stared at the stars that showed him where the sea was, and where the mountains were. He looked at the moon that told him that the autumn was taking it's last breaths. He felt the wind that told him which way the current took the boats that were out in the sea. He tasted the weather on his tongue, it was cold and damp, which told him that the following day would probably be rainy and foggy.

Suddenly a door slammed behind him and someone ran out of the lodge, into the dark forest.

He had missed.

Thank the Gods he had missed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi ya! Short chapter, I know. But I'm trying to keep posting more often so people wouldn't have to wait. Can you guess what happens in the next chapter? A little hint; I'm gonna enjoy writing it.. hahah, stay tuned :)


	12. Letting go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saga decides to let go of her past and prove herself to Ivar.

Saga's cheeks were burning. She stared at the dagger next to her left temple, jaw dropped and palms dripping cold sweat. She felt like her heart was trying to jump out of her chest. Everybody knew very well that Ivar never missed a shot, so he must've aimed next to her head. Saga was absolutely sure about it. Ivar wouldn't have gone that far, he wouldn't have tried to kill her for this.

With shaking hands, she wrapped her fingers around the handle of the dagger, and swiftly pulled it out of the wooden wall. It was still a little stained and sticky from Ivar's blood. Saga turned the weapon in her hands, examining it's unusual patterns. She wanted to travel far away from what had just happened. She wanted to travel away from this day, from this nightmare. She wanted to wake up.

But what if she woke up and realized she wasn't laying next to Ivar, but Karli, her husband who's love was too painful, too harsh to handle? Was that the life she was asking for? Because she felt like she was leaning against that option. Ivar had tried to convince her to let go of him. Him, who had found her on her lowest point and given her the shelter that she needed? Karli had taken her to live with him when she had become homeless after her mother's death. Karli had fed her when she had been starving. He had given her warmth and safety. But he had also given her a great deal of pain. He had taken her against her will, so many times... He had beat her after drinking all night, slashed her back and left her suffering. But every time he had made up for it by feeding her something delicious or gifting her with a special present.

Karli never apologized. He never said the words "I'm sorry." He never hugged her so she would feel the heat of his body, pressed against her broken heart. No one had ever kissed her forehead before Ivar. No one had ever looked at her the way Ivar looked at her. She had never been equal with her lover.

With teary eyes, Saga glanced at the door, desperately wanting Ivar to rush in and apologize, embrace her so aggressively that she wouldn't be able to breath. But the door stayed shut, and it was so quiet. He was far gone, hoping he had hit her in the head with the dagger.

A quiet whimper escaped Saga's lips.

She had to make some decision. She couldn't stay in Ivar's lodge anymore.

When she stood up, it felt like she had already been running for hours straight. Her feet seemed to know where to go and what to do. It wasn't her head anymore, that was making the decisions. Her heart guided her to the door and all the way to the dark and cold forest.

She wasn't present on her way to "home". She did hear the moss sizzling under her feet, and the wind howling between the tall pine trees, but her mind couldn't process any of it, it was just an eerie sound in the background of her thoughts. She couldn't even feel the cold - the adrenaline in her veins made sure she wasn't concentrated on her bodily matters.

After wading through the dark forest almost completely blind, she finally arrived to her destination. She was still in a state of mind, where everything was sort of quiet and worthless, like there would've been some sort of misty cloud around her head, whispering these things she was about to do. And that voice was soft and dangerous, so familiar and sweet, she couldn't resist it.

The door to the lodge was heavy. It was incredible how strange it was to open that particular door, like she hadn't stepped through it in ages, not with her head up like it was now. Not with her eyes searching for their victim like they were now. She was ready for what was about to happen.

Karli eyed her from the other side of the room. The atmosphere was already heavy, as if Saga had stepped into a room full of smoke - it was hard to breath. Saga stepped in and left the door open behind her. That way she could run away more easily if things went wrong.

"You have been gone", the man said, not once breaking the eye contact. He barely blinked. "I thought you would not come back."

"I thought so too", Saga whispered. She didn't dare to take a step closer. She knew how quickly things could take a painful turn. Her stomach felt sore as she watched the man tilt his head and move closer.

"But here you are!" His hand was holding a big horn, probably filled with ale. His filthy scent lingered to Saga's nostrils, forcing her to stop breathing through her nose. "Half naked on a night like this! You must be freezing."

His voice had no empathy in it, whatsoever. It was all for the show that was about to start.

"I had no place to go", Saga mumbled helplessly, squeezing the sticky object in her fist. She felt like she could pass out at any moment, and that would've been the end of her. Karli stepped closer, so that Saga could almost see the color of his bloodshot eyes. She knew they were green, but right now they looked black - like eyes of a monster.

Saga wondered if her eyes looked black as well.

"You had no place to go?" Karli sounded confused, but his face was saying "You can always come home?".

"I-I was staying with a friend."

"Was this friend a man?"

Saga didn't respond. She stared at her husband, her face probably twisted of fear.

The left side of Karli's mouth turned up slightly. "Did you really think I would not find out? About you and that crippled piece of shit”, he said, causing a shiver go down Saga's spine. She was trembling of terror by now. He would kill her. Or at least try to kill her. "You are nothing but a dirty pit I can stick my dick in!" Karli raised an open palm and struck Saga across her face.

The girl let out a cry, but kept her balance. She turned her head and hid her face against her own shoulder. The misty cloud around her head told her to stay calm and gather up her courage and strength. It was almost time.

Karli raised his hand again and struck her once more. Then he started to fumble for the leather band around his waist. "I know everything Saga." He gripped her wrist and swung her towards him, locking her up in his hold. "Just so you know, he will die right after you. You both get to reunite in Hel, isn't that what you want?"

Any time now, Saga thought. He would notice the dagger in her hand any time now. She had to act.

It was astonishing, how effortlessly the blade sunk into the big man's flesh. Saga pushed the dagger in Karli's stomach, so deep she could barely see the handle. Her hands got covered in blood very quickly. The red liquid stained her under skirt in a blink of an eye. Karli's hands were shaking as violently as Saga's. They were both holding onto the dagger, that had vanished into the man's brown clothed stomach. "I am not scared of going to Hel", Saga breathed out. Her words turned into smoke as the temperature in the room dropped. "Do you want to know why?"

Karli twitched beneath her blade, letting out croaks and shaky breaths. Saga could finally keep her hands steady, as she pulled the dagger out and stepped away from the man in front of her. "It's because after living with you so many years, going to Hel will mean freedom. Freedom of you. I would happily die now, rather than live with you any longer.”

Karli took in a shaky breath and stumbled closer to Saga. He was holding his stomach with both of his hands, trying to ignore the unbearable pain. ”So be it”, the man croaked and quickly punched the dagger from Saga’s grip. It flew near the door behind them. And as Saga turned her head to the door, Karli tackled her beneath him, kicking her in the stomach with all his strength.

Saga gasped for air, but her lungs weren’t able to fill up. She thought her ribcage must’ve broken and collapsed on her lungs. Her chest was burning, but she couldn’t quite tell if it was because of the weight on top of her, or the pain she was already feeling inside. But one thing was clear; Karli had hit her in the stomach, which had caused a vomit spurt out of her mouth. She couldn’t breath but she could scream. And she did.

Karli was shaking on top of her, takin in his last breaths. Being on his stomach, caused him to bleed out quicker than expected. He reached for the dagger and grabbed it eagerly. ”I will slice you to bits”, he croaked near her ear.

Saga’s screams turned to desperate sobs.

She waited for the blade to come for her. She wanted him to do it already, rather than live any longer in this fear and terror. The pain in her lower abdomen was starting to get unbearable. She was drifting off.

But the blade didn’t come for her. Instead, Karli suddenly shrieked and twisted backwards. She couldn’t get her eyes off of his agony filled face. She had never seen a sight as haunting and terrifying. When she concentrated, she could hear sounds of bones being cracked somewhere above her. The crunches filled her ears and suddenly she felt like those bones were hers. Someone was cracking her hipbones from inside out.

Slowly, Karli’s body retreated from on top of her. He was dead, the life that had once flickered in those dark eyes, had vanished into thin air. When the weight was finally gone, she carefully tried to breath in.

A pair of blue eyes appeared above her, looking at her in horror. She concentrated on those eyes, remembering to whom they belonged to.

Ivar lifted her skirt to check if she had been stabbed or slashed anywhere in her body. He carefully went through every inch of her, traveling his shaky fingers along her chest and stomach. He needed her to live. He was committed to keep her alive.

Saga had a massive bruise covering her lower stomach, and from what he could tell, it was swelling up. She needed immediate treatment.

”Shh, you will be alright", Ivar said, his voice coming out wobbly. Saga seemed to be in some sort of shock. She was looking at Ivar, but her eyes weren’t present. In her mind, she was somewhere else, and that was scaring Ivar more than the bruises on her stomach. She looked so dead in the eyes, that it almost looked like she was gone. Also, he couldn’t tell if any of the blood was hers. In most cases Ivar would’ve stared and admired the Gods’ work, but now he was horrified looking at her. It physically hurt him to watch her. He couldn’t even process the thought of not following her into the woods and later finding her dead beneath her monstrous husband’s body. The only thing that was keeping him sane was Saga’s moving chest. She was alive and he would make this all up to her.

One thought hovered in Ivar’s mind like no other.

She had come here to face her husband, to kill him.

Ivar looked at his bloody dagger on the wooden floor. It was his dagger, the one he had gotten from Floki. The one he had thrown at Saga. The one Saga had used to stab her husband.

Ivar cupped Saga’s face and felt his eyes tear up. He leaned in and held his forehead against Saga’s. He could feel Saga’s weak breaths fanning his lips.

A weak hand grabbed his tunic, desperately trying to pull him down. Saga squeezed Ivar’s shirt in her fist.

”Ivar…”

Hearing her say his name so vulnerably caused Ivar to lose it. He started sobbing, his head pressed against Saga’s. He was crying out his soul.

Saga wrapped her arms around him, finally realizing she was safe now.

Ivar slowly pecked her lips. He hovered above her, examining the woman he now knew that he loved. ”I will never let you run from me again.”

Saga swallowed a sob and closed her eyes. Even in such great deal of pain, she could feel a sudden warmth inside her, that was healing her heart once more. Ivar would never let her go. Never.

She finally drifted off, feeling completely safe against Ivar's warm body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi ya! So here we go, finally got rid of that piece of shit. What do you think happens to Saga? Do you think there will be consequences to her actions? I hope you liked the chapter :)


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